Proof of being a Winchester
by LaurenEP18
Summary: Sam has always felt the need to prove himself to his family... But this time, will he go too far? Teen!chesters. Sam is 16 and Dean is 20.
1. Chapter 1

"Why does it matter?"

"Because _you_ matter, Sammy!"

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Sam was the new kid at school… Again. And being the new kid, Sam was subject to being the new target of the older kids. Sure he had muscle from training every other day with his Dad and Dean, but he still looked thin. He knew that if it were a fair one on one match, he'd knock each one of them out. Hell, if it were a two on one he'd kick both of their asses… But not five on one… Sam was a sophomore and Dean had already dropped out of school to hunt full time with their dad. Dean always had a presence in school. It was that type of presence that had kids larger that Dean averting their eyes. Sam didn't have that presence… He looked so non-threatening that the bullies flocked to him, pegging him as an easy target.

He never meant for Dean to find out about his troubles at school. He wanted to take care of everything himself. That day, Bucky and his clowns decided it would be a good idea to follow Sam home. Right before he was about to cross the street to his rental home, they jumped him. Dean had unfortunately just gotten off work at the garage and had come barreling out of the front door just as Sam got in a well-placed jab to Bucky's midsection.

"Sammy!" Dean called as he ran up on them.

"Who's that? Your boyfriend?" Bucky and his gang laughed, causing Sam to see red. He lunged forward only to be caught by his brother while the other boys laughed harder. "Thought so!"

"Damn it, Dean! Let me go, I can take these jokers." Sam screeched, wriggling in Dean's iron grip.

"Just like you took us before?" One of the other kids yelled from behind.

"Hey, get the hell outta here before I crush each and every one of you punks. So the way I see it, you have about five seconds before I go ape shit on your asses." Something in Dean's eyes made the others think twice before staying any longer. The pack started running off just as Bucky spit directly at Sam's nicely bruising eye.

"You bastards." Sam mumbled under his breath wiping the spit from his cheek with his muddied shirt.

"What the hell, Sam? What happened to 'Keep your head down'?" Dean released his hold on Sam to look him in the eye.

"Well as you can see, that didn't work out so well with them. You keep your head down, it'll end up cracked on the concrete." Sam passed his brother, crossing the street to their little brick house. The outside was charming, but he knew what was on the inside. Guns and knives lay out to be sharpened, papers strewn about the rooms. It looked like a hurricane had come through that house, and that house only.

"Sammy, hold up a sec." His brother took hold of his shoulder and turned him around to look him straight in the eyes. Though Dean was four years older than Sam, even at sixteen years old they saw each other at eye level.

"Dean, I don't want to talk about it." Sam brushed his brother's hand off his shoulder and continued into the house. His father was off on a hunt a few towns over and wouldn't be home until Sunday. They had the house to themselves for two and a half more days, so Sam didn't bother keeping his voice down as he continued. "It's my problem and I'm going to take care of it, okay?"

"We need to talk about this Sam, it's important! I want to make sure you're okay. I know you could have taken them if it was a fair fight, so why didn't you come to me for help?" The confusion in Dean's eyes at the fact that Sam wouldn't come to him for assistance was close to comical.

"Why does it matter?" Sam genuinely wanted to know. _Why does it matter if I can't take a few bullies? A Winchester would have never let school yard punks get the better of them. So why is Dean defending me?_

"Because _you_ matter, Sammy!" His voice was incredulous.

Sam rolled his eyes and stomped off to his room. Dean just didn't get it… Sam did everything he was capable of to fend off the newest town bullies. He was only one person. He couldn't take on five seniors at one time… by himself… like he always was… But Sam wouldn't dare ask his brother for help. He knew it was the logical thing to do, but he wanted to prove himself. Prove the fact that he was good enough to have the Winchester name tagged on after his own.

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"TGIF, huh Sammy?" Sam could hear the smirk in Dean's voice as he burst through the front door.

"Yeah. Thank God." That day Sam was the ridicule of the entire school. Sam had finally gotten the courage to ask out Melody Carter, the most beautiful girl in homeroom. Apparently she thought that Sam had a boyfriend because Bucky had gone around school spreading rumors about him. Yeah… Thank God it's Friday alright… _Only a few more days._

"Hey, wanna head out to the local bar and grill? I hear it's the place to be on Friday nights." Dean was obviously trying to pry Sam out of his shell. Ever since the fight Thursday, Sam hadn't spoken to Dean. He wasn't really mad with him as much as he was mad with himself.

"Well, uh…" Sam didn't really feel like going out. He just wanted to wait it out at the house until their dad got home so they could put this damn town in the rear view mirror of the Impala.

"Wow, Sammy. Don't strain yourself. That's the most I've gotten out of you for a full twenty-four hours." His brother laughed lightly. Sam couldn't help but chuckle along. He couldn't give Dean the silent treatment for very long.

"Sure, I guess we could go out for a bit. I have some homework I still have to get done though."

"Dude, we're leaving as soon as Dad gets home from the hunt. Screw homework!" Dean placed an open palm on Sam's back and scooted him from the front room out into the dark.

They'd been only walking for a minute before Dean's impatience got the better of him. "Let's get a move on bitch, before all the hot chicks go home!" Dean winked at Sam, nudging him to move faster.

"I'm moving as fast as I can without breaking into a sprint, Jerk." Sam stated just as the red lights for the bar came into view.

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**This is my first teen!chesters story, so be nice! I know this chapter is a bit short, but I wanted to put this out as it is now. Please rate!**


	2. Chapter 2

Dean was flirting it up with some girl twice his age up at the bar. Not surprising for Dean… He'll hit on anything with a pulse. It is smoky in the inside so Sam decided to step out for some air. His older brother was so engrossed in the red head with a splotchy spray on tan, he wouldn't notice if Sam left for a few minutes. As soon as he crossed the threshold, Bucky grabbed him by his collar and hauled him out back towards the alleyway. If Sam didn't know any better, he'd say that he was waiting for him. But Sam _did_ know better. Being trained as a hunter, Sam would have known if he was being followed. Dean certainly would have.

"What the hell?" Sam stepped back from the semi circle of teens that were closing in on him.

"Exactly. _Hell_. Hell is what you're gonna pay for bruising this prime merchandise." Bucky made a show of rubbing his abdomen where Sam had punched him.

Sam has had enough of Bucky and his minions picking on him. He'd done nothing wrong and he wouldn't let this continue. He would not put his head down and take this shit from the likes of them. Sam let his anger fume until he lashed out. "Hey _Fucky_, what's the matter? Afraid you're boyfriends won't think you're pretty with a giant bruise on your stomach?" Sam smirked, taunting the older boy.

"You little _prick_. The names _Bucky_, and I'll make sure you remember it after I knock some sense into ya!" Bucky was visibly seething with rage. Apparently he had issues with his name.

All five of the boys circled around Sam, hooting and hollering. Bucky held up one hand to silence the rest. "No. I want to deal with him myself." He stared straight at Sam.

"Oh, fighting a fair fight are we? I'm surprised Fucky. I thought you were below that." Sam mockingly acted surprised.

"Move aside boys," at his command, his followers disbanded and formed a pack behind their leader, "It's time I taught this pup a lesson."

And just like that, the battle began. It was short lived though. Bucky hurled himself forward as Sam easily ducked down, ramming himself into his knees and lifting him. He then spun a three sixty and tossed Bucky into the crowd, knocking them all down like bowling pins.

"You bitch. Get up and fight!" Sam was quite agitated. As soon as Bucky hit the ground, he never got up. The youngest Winchester panted, not from exertion but from rage. The rest of the high school kids just gawked at Sam. "Come on!" Sam provoked.

One brave son of a gun decided he'd try his luck at fighting Sam. The rest weighed their options as two ran back home and one more joined his buddy. The first one, Matt he thinks, took a sucker punch to Sam. The other who Sam didn't know pressed him into the wall as Matt knocked into his face with a hard left. Sam scrambled out of the guys grasp and landed a swift kick into his chest. Matt charged him, sending both of them to the ground. Sam could hear his skull cracking against the frosty asphalt and the warmth gushing from it. Everything around him blurred though he could distinctly feel Matt's knuckles making contact with his jaw. Though partially incapacitated, Sam rolled so he was able to get out from underneath Matt's massive weight and stumble back towards a large trash bin to support his weight.

Breathing heavily, Sam almost missed the large footsteps coming straight for him. He glanced up through a fringe of lashes and sped for both of them. Sending them to the ground so quickly it caused Sam to momentarily lose his vision. The black encroached into his line of sight, but that didn't matter now. He realized he'd won as he watched Matt and the other kid crawl over to Bucky and lift him up so they could all hobble away. Sam grasped the edge of the brick wall of the bar. He knew he'd have to go back inside so that Dean wouldn't worry.

Not sure how long he was out there, he carefully wove his way through the bar patrons to where he'd last seen Dean. Looking around, he figured Dean had gone home with the bimbo he'd seen earlier schmoozing with him at the bar. He guessed he'd been too drunk to come find Sam and let him know. _Of course he wouldn't tell me. Nobody tells me anything cause I'm just the tag along in the family._

Sam could feel his fake ID burning a hole in his pocket. He definitely looked old enough to be twenty-one and he certainly was tall enough to fit that order. Tired, pissed and just a slight bit dizzy, Sam sauntered up to the bar to order a shot of Jack. Hoping that it would help numb the pain in his head.

"Uh, can I see some ID kid?" The cautious bar tender asked.

"Sure, ma'am. Here." Sam pulled his card out and laid it flat on the bars sticky surface, flashing a brilliant cocky smile he'd learned from his brother.

"Okay?" She still sounded unsure, but the ID said twenty-one and she wasn't about to turn away a paying customer.

Sam took his first shot, not feeling anything after. With his family if Sam had sustained a major injury, his father would allow him to have one or two shots of whatever he had in stock. Sam knew it would take a lot more than that for him to get drunk and for some reason that is _exactly_ what Sam wanted. He wanted to get hammered and he didn't care. His brother and father got drunk a lot, why couldn't he get drunk for once? With this damn life he lived in with monsters, human or otherwise around every corner… Sam sighed and tapped the brim of his glass signaling he needed a refill.

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After about five shots of whisky, two beers and one long island ice tea that one of his newly found bar buddies got him, Sam was astonished he even made it back to their house without getting run over or passing out. He saw the Impala was still in its rightful place in the driveway… Right next to a large black truck. That meant one thing and one thing only. His dad was home. Praying his brother was home to act as a buffer between them to keep his father from picking up on his drunken state, Sam gently tested the doorknob to find it already unlocked. Sam peered through the cracked door to see his father and brother sitting across from each other at the kitchen table. His dad was no doubt going over the details of his latest hunt with Dean.

Their heads snapped up in unison as Sam crept through the door and shut it silently behind him. He never made eye contact, only waving his hand toward them and making his way to the bathroom. Not two seconds after Sam shut the bathroom door, there was loud banging against it causing his head to spin.

"Sammy? Sammy, are you alright? Can you open the door for me?" Dean's frantic voice was muffled through the pounding in his ears.

"_Samuel._ You open this door right now." His father's no-nonsense voice filtered through his muddled mind, making him suddenly aware of the present situation.

He looked into the mirror and could see a massive purplish bruise marking the left side of his jaw next to a split lip. Leaning his head to the side he could just make out a line of dried blood matted against his long hair. Feeling around he winced as his fingers brushed across a large welt. He let out a low hiss, which made his older brother's voice become more worried.

"Sam, open the door. Did those damn punks get to you again?" Dean's concerned tone made Sam pretty pissed off.

"Ha." Sam laughed humorlessly, his temper flaring. "W-why… Why do you even care anyways?" Sam stuttered out. "You left me for some whore at the bar."

"Sam what are you talking about? I was looking everywhere for you! I see you one second and then the next you're gone. I had just come home to see if you decided to come here and then I saw Dad had come home early. He said you weren't here and I was just about to go back out when you come stumbling through the door all bruised up. Now so help me _God _if you do not open this door, I'll kick your ass myself!" Dean used his authoritative voice. One that Sam, no matter how hard he resisted, always responded to. Not because when he did, he sounded just like their dad… But because he always knew when Dean spoke like that it was because he was freaked.

So Sam bit down on his cut lip, tasting the copper from the dried blood and opened the door a sliver. The first thing he saw was Dean's desperate green eyes, searching for Sam in the bright light of the small room.

"Aw, Sammy… _Damn it_." Dean pushed the door open more and reached to cradle Sam's face in his right hand so he could rub his thumb gently across the dark forming bruise on his jaw. "Was this from that Bucky kid?" Sam had told him who it was that was harassing him, just leaving out last names. He didn't want him to come beat the kid up at school for him. Sam wanted to fight his own fights.

Not trusting his own voice, Sam only nodded in agreement. Then he pointedly eyed his dad who was standing just outside the doorway, arms crossed. Dean looked behind him and told their father he could handle this and for him to head back to the kitchen. Sam was never so thankful for his and Dean's nonverbal communication skills. He then grabbed Dean's wrist and pulled it from his face and made his way out of the now cramped space. Using the hallway walls for support, Sam made his way to Dean and his shared bedroom.

Sam could sense Dean hovering behind him. He was actually glad. What with his head injury and drinking so much at the bar, he wasn't sure he could actually _make it_ to their room. About three quarters of the way through the hall, Sam turned and leaned heavily against the plaster.

"Sam?" Dean's voice was right up in his face.

"'m okay, De. Jus' need bed." Sam pleaded. He just wanted to lie down, but he remembered that he might have a concussion. Sam knew he would need Dean to watch him… make sure he didn't have any complications when he was sleeping, but he couldn't form the words.

Soon Sam found himself already on his bed, not remembering the trip there. He must have only passed out for a few seconds because Dean was kneeling down at his feet, tugging his boots free from his feet. He knew he needed to let his brother know he had a concussion, or at least ask for him to check.

"De, I think a concuss'n I may have." He tried, but the words sounded strange rolling off his loose tongue.

"What are you, freakin' Yoda?" He raised his eyebrow, "So you think you have a concussion?" Dean worded it correctly and Sam nodded his head carefully. "Okay then, hold on a sec." Dean riffled through his pack and brought back a pin light, which he preceded to shine in Sam's eyes. "Yup, definitely a concussion. Damn it, Sam. I can smell the liquor from _here_!" Dean's exclamation startled Sam. Was it that strong on his breath?

"P-please don' tell dad." Something in Sam's eyes must have kept Dean from ratting him out, even if it _was_ for his own safety. Dean huffed out a loud sigh and laid Sam back down.

"Come on Sasquatch, time for bed. We _will_ talk about this in the morning…" Dean trailed off, leaving the threat floating in the air. Sam didn't have much time to think about it because not but a few seconds after his head hit the pillow, there was nothing but black.

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**So what did y'all think? Please review!**


	3. Chapter 3

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The heavy pulse of blood rushing through his ears was the first thing Sam registered in the morning. He was parched and his head felt like it might explode. It was probably an after effect from the concussion he suffered last night mixed with the whisky… Just the thought of whisky had Sam out of bed and rushing for the toilet.

"Sam? Sam, open the door. Are you sick?" Sam couldn't hear his father's voice over his bout of sickness, but he did feel the vibrations of the knocking door. He sloppily wiped his arm across his mouth and spat into the bowl. Flushing the toilet, Sam fell against the cool tile wall. He moaned quietly.

"I'm coming in, Sam." He could hear the lock being picked from the other side and he just didn't have the strength to stop his father from coming in. So Sam closed his eyes and waited for him to gain entrance. The lock popped and his dad burst through the door, turning to his right to see Sam slumped over against the wall. "Sammy, what the hell happened to you?"

Sam could feel his father's callused hand brush his hair up to feel for a temperature. "You don't _feel _sick?" It was meant as a statement but came out as more of a question. Sam figured he was wondering why he was vomiting if he wasn't even running a fever.

"Dad?" Dean's voice hovered in the doorway, wondering what was going on. Sam saw his head peak over his father's form. "Sammy?" Dean's concerned look transformed into one of understanding. "_Sammy_." His voice exasperated.

"What is it Dean?" His father picked up on Dean's tone, just as Sam feared he might. Sam gave Dean a pleading look.

"Here." Dean shuffled past their dad and pulled Sam up by the arm with a little bit more force than necessary. "I'll help him out, Dad. Why don't you go find us another hunt? We're supposed to be heading out later today, right?" He didn't wait for an answer as he half dragged Sam back to their room and shut the door.

"Dean, I-" Sam tried to apologize but was swiftly cut off by an enraged Dean Winchester.

"Don't you even start squirt." Sam rolled his eyes at that. He knew at this rate, he'd be taller than his older brother soon. Dean refused to believe this. "Do you have _any_ idea how much shit I could be in for covering for you? Do you? And that's not even the important part of this lecture that I'm about to give you. The lecture that you're gonna sit there and take because I'm your big brother and I told you so. Got it?"

He waited for Sam to nod until he continued. "Where do you get off leaving a bar, by yourself, in a strange neighborhood, without me? And then what, did you get jumped or something? Cause that would have _never_ happened if you were with me! Damn it, sometimes I just want to knock some sense into that stubborn skull of yours. You could have gotten _killed_ and I wouldn't have been there to protect you. Do you think of anyone but yourself?" Dean's face was turning a strange shade of purple at the end of his tirade. Sam figured he hardly breathed when laying it into him.

"I'm sorry." Sam didn't want to worry Dean. He hadn't meant to be gone but a minute. "I really am, I didn't think you'd notice if I stepped out for a minute… Bucky and his gang yanked me outside and I _had_ to defend myself. I knocked Bucky out and then got the better of two others, and then they ran off. I came back inside and saw you were gone…" He left off the rest.

"You saw I was gone so you… Decided to use the ID I gave you to get drunk off your ass? That ID isn't meant for you to go get drunk, Sam! It's for important shit, for hunting. You're _selfish_… You know that?" Sam blanched at that.

_Selfish?_ He was the furthest thing from it. He did _everything _for this family even though he hated this life that he was forced into. Sam wanted nothing to do with hunting but he was there by his family's side, no matter what. Everything came in second place to hunting… school, friends, and any semblance of a normal life.

He bit his lip to keep from yelling at his brother, telling him how wrong he was. Sam thought he would have heard something like that coming from his father, but from _Dean?_ That hurt more than anything. Sam knew in that second, he would prove to his brother and father that he wasn't selfish. That he was the warrior, the hunter, the _Winchester_ they had always wanted.

"Sam?" Sam could see that his brother had realized he'd gone too far. "Sammy, man I'm sorry. I just, worry about you. You can be so stubborn sometimes I just wish you'd listen to us for once."

"Don't worry about it, Dean. It's fine." _I'll prove I'm good enough to be in this family. Just you wait and see._

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Not long after Sam and Dean talked, Sam packed his meager belongings into his one duffle and sat in the den.

"What are you doing, son?" His father's surprised voice assaulted the once quiet room, but Sam did not stir.

Sam stood and looked his dad straight in the eye. "I am packed and ready to leave, sir."

"Good boy." His dad spoke appraisingly with a small smile.

"When do we leave, sir?" Sam tried to keep his back straight and voice strong. Just like a soldier would to his commanding officer.

"Soon." His father watched him for a second longer. He was probably waiting for Sam to ask his usual follow up question of 'When is soon?' It never came. Sam nodded and sat down next to his pack. Though he was itching to know when 'soon' was, Sam knew that a soldier would never ask such a mundane question. So he clamped his jaw taught and waited for any more orders.

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Dean watched Sam packing his things methodically. He hoped that he didn't mess up by saying some of the things he did. Sam didn't know that as he was having his overly formal conversation with their dad, Dean listened from the hall. He couldn't believe his ears. Sam actually sounded like some army man, and Dean didn't like that. He knew something was wrong the second they had finished up talking. He could see an instant change in Sam's demeanor as soon as he uttered the word selfish. Dean instantly wanted to take it back, but it was true sometimes. Sam would always question orders, break rules their father gave him, stretch everyone's patience.

"Sammy?" Dean stepped out from the shadows as soon as their dad walked away to start packing his truck. Sam and he would be taking the Impala.

"Dean, you can just call me Sam." He never quite made eye contact, which concerned Dean.

"I thought you always liked being called Sammy?" When they were younger, Dean always called him Sammy and Sam always called him De. Now of course De turned into Dean, unless Sam was hurt severely, very sick and now, apparently, drunk as he witnessed last night. Dean would never tell him this, but every time he called him that, it made him feel so loved. He wanted to go back to those times when everything was so easy.

_This _time, Sam did make direct eye contact. His teal eyes darkened a fraction. "Sammy is a kid's nickname. I'm not a kid, I'm a hunter."

Dean took an unconscious step back. "You're still a kid, Samm- Sam. And you're kind of freakin' me out, dude. You're acting strange."

"I'm fine Dean. I am _finally_ being what you two wanted me to be." And with that, Sam tossed his bag across his shoulder and passed by Dean. He knew that this was a bad sign. He could feel his big brother senses tingling, telling him to go help Sam. He just didn't know what was going on though. He would be keeping a very sharp eye on him for a while. Try to talk to him and figure out what is going on. But for now, he had to get his stuff packed up so they could be on the road.

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Sam could feel his brother's eyes on him. He knew what was bothering him, but Sam just didn't care. He had to keep his head in the game. Their dad let them know before they left that there was a werewolf hunt up near Bobby's place. He said they were going to stay with him while they hunted the evil son of a bitch and then possibly stay for a little while to rest up. He was excited about seeing Bobby, but only answered his father with a 'yes sir', which seemed to please his dad. He had gotten a dirty look from his brother though.

"Sammy?" Dean started.

"It's Sam." He hardened his stature, leaving no room for argument. He liked it when Dean called him Sammy, but that was the old him. This Sam was a warrior, not little Sammy.

Dean let out a soft sigh. "Okay. Sam? I've been thinking. I don't think you should come with us on the hunt. It could be too dangerous for you out there and I don't want you getting hurt."

Sam's breathing started to come faster. Was he kidding? Sam whirled his head around to his brother with sheer disbelief. Judging by the way Dean held his jaw he was in no way joking. "_Are you fucking_ _kidding me_?" Sam's outburst almost caused Dean to loosed control of the car. "I _am_ going on this hunt. I'll prove to you I'm good enough. I _have_ to go!" His fingers were digging into his seat. No way would he raise his voice like this to his dad. He may have before, but not now. His father was just now starting to look at him with more pride. He could tell his dad liked Sam's new found compliance with his orders and Sam wasn't going to ruin it. Dean on the other hand was completely messing everything up. If he tried to keep Sam from coming, he'd never be able to show that he was every bit the hunter Dean was to their father. He _had_ to go!

"Calm down Sam! With an attitude like that, you shouldn't be hunting anything!" Dean returned with the same amount of gusto in his voice.

Sam changed his strategy and softened his voice. "Dean, please let me come with you. Ya'll need my help to get this thing. I'll stay out of the way and listen to everything you two tell me. Just, _please_?"

"Fine. Dad thinks you're ready so I'm going to trust him." Dean didn't realize he had just put Sam down again. To Sam, he'd basically just said that he didn't trust him and that the only reason he's letting Sam come is because of his trust in his father. That just added fuel to the fire in Sam's stomach. He would show Dean that he could trust him just as much as he could their father. He just needed _this_ opportunity.

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**I know there isn't a lot of action in this chapter, but it was needed. I wanted to show Sam trying to change to get the approval from his father and Dean. There should be some hunting next chapter, so stay tuned! Please review, it'll make me post faster! Haha.**


	4. Chapter 4

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The ride was made in silence between the two brothers. The only thing making noise was the AC/DC tape and the purr of the Impala barreling down the open stretch of asphalt behind their father's truck. It took only five hours to reach Bobby's house. The Singer Salvage Yard sign warmed him a little. He was glad they would be able to stay with Bobby and not in some dumpy motel.

"Hey boys!" Sam heard Bobby's unmistakable gruff voice over his shoulder as he shouldered his and Dean's packs.

Sam wanted to turn and give the old man a hug. He hadn't seen him in months, but that is not what was acceptable anymore. He had to look like the stoic hunter his father wanted. Sam slowly turned and held out a hand. "Nice to see you, sir." He plastered a warm smile on his face. It was a genuine smile, but Bobby just stared blankly at him. Reluctantly shaking hands, Sam walked over to his father to help him with some of his things.

"Sir, do you need anything?" Sam formally questioned.

"No, I think I'm good son. Thank you." His father gave him a light pat on the back to send him on his way.

"Yes, sir." Sam marched into the large house, not sparing a glance at the two men who were no doubt watching him. He knew that Dean and Bobby were confused at his compliance and attitude, but Sam _needed_ his father's approval. He did want to prove to Dean too that he had what it took to be a hunter, but his father was always the main target. He never felt like he was good enough for him, and now he was finally getting some recognition, albeit a little. Any margin of gratitude or acceptance from his father only added to Sam's resolve. If he couldn't be accepted as he was, he'd change. No matter what it cost him.

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Sam made his way through the familiar house upstairs to his and Dean's shared bedroom. He laid his duffle at the foot of his bed and set Dean's at the foot of his.

"Sam!" He heard Bobby yell up to him.

Sam rushed down to where he heard Bobby's voice into the kitchen. "Yes, sir?"

"Hey champ, dinner is almost ready. Get washed up. I made my famous chili!" A smile crept across Sam's face but soon vanished. He had to play it down for them; it was only chili after all. Even though it _was_ his favorite chili in the world.

"Okay, sir. I will only be one minute." His dad and Dean were already filling up their bowls as Sam washed hands. As they sat at the table, Sam quietly filled his bowl and took his rightful spot next to Dean at the dinner table. "Permission to eat, sir?" Sam questioned his father and Bobby.

"Permission granted, son." His father grinned across the table to Sam, a light in his eyes.

"Sam, you know you don't gotta ask before diggin' in?" Bobby's concerned eyes cut over to Dean. Sam saw the brief, but silent communication going on between them though he acted as if he never noticed.

"I didn't want to be rude, sir." Sam explained.

"And why are you all of the sudden calling me sir? You always called me Bobby or Uncle Bobby. Why the sudden change, Sammy?" Bobby wouldn't allow Sam to break eye contact with him. He held his gaze until Sam finally spoke up.

"I would prefer it if you called me Sam, sir. I mean no disrespect by asking you to do so though. You can call me whatever you like. And I'm calling you sir out of respect, because I respect you Bobby. Though I also respect your decision to be called Bobby. Would you rather me call you that instead of sir?"

"Uh. Well, I guess you can call me whatever you want." Bobby sounded flabbergasted.

Sam had made his decision. "Okay, sir."

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Bobby wished he had called the Winchester's to come up to stay with him sooner. He could see that Sam had changed so much; it was hardly Sam sitting there in his kitchen. This was not the boy that Bobby had grown to think of as one of his own. Sammy, with his infectious smile that lit up his heart. This boy was a soldier. A mini John Winchester, and it made him feel sick. He turned his glare over to his friend. John was next to him just smiling away like a proud papa. Well, Bobby was having none of this and he could see that Dean felt the same way.

"Dean, can I talk to you for a second? In, uh… private?" Bobby noisily scooted his chair out from the table. Sam immediately stood and yanked Bobby and Dean's bowls up from the table to wash them out. Dean hurried over to Bobby and they made their way to the study.

Dean shut the door behind him and spun around to face Bobby. "Bobby, I don't know what to do. I think something's wrong with Sam."

"You got that right, ya idjit. What did y'all do to him?" Bobby raised his voice an octave.

"I didn't _do_ anything!" Dean stopped abruptly and thought for a moment, then amended his previous statement. "Well, I don't _think_ I did anything…" He gazed off into space.

"First of all, we need to figure out when all this started." Bobby began.

"I can't be positive, but I think it started right before we left. See, Sam had some trouble with some bullies at school and he never came to me about it. Dad and I've always told him to just keep his head down and they wouldn't bother him… I guess it didn't work cause I come out of the house one day to see Sam getting shoved and then he goes and jabs the kid." Bobby nodded, encouraging him to continue. "Anyway, the next night we went to this bar and grill. I was chatting with some woman at the bar and then I notice Sam's gone. I left to go looking for him and found Dad home early. I was telling him about how I couldn't find Sam when he stumbles through the door, drunk as all hell. Had that bruise you saw on his jaw and a split lip along with a minor concussion. Locked himself in the bathroom and then _finally_ I got him out. I tried to talk to him but he was too out of it."

Bobby sighed, "Anything else? Anything you or him said that might've triggered this?"

"Well…" Dean chewed on his lip, obviously nervous.

"Well what, son? This is important." And it was important. This was about the youngest and he needed help from them, _soon._

"When I was trying to get him out of the bathroom, he mentioned something about wondering why I cared if the punks at school beat on him. He thought I left him for, and I quote, 'some whore at the bar.'" Dean air quoted what Sam had said to him that night. "And one more thing… I kind of called Sam selfish." Dean explained, looking sheepish.

"_Selfish?_ Dean that boy is one of the farthest things I've _seen_ from selfish." Bobby chastised.

"Well, sometimes he is! I mean, he went out and got drunk and came home expecting me to cover for him?" Dean tensely whispered.

"And how many times has Sam done that for you, _huh?_ Did you ever think about how many times Sammy covered _your_ ass?" Bobby was incredulous. Dean didn't make eye contact. "That's what I thought. Now we need to fix this mess before it spirals out of control." Bobby watched the eldest Winchester brother with hard eyes. He knew that this was not completely his fault, but with the closeness between the brothers… Well, he should have seen this coming.

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"Hey Sam? Make sure everything is all packed for the hunt tonight. I don't want this thing hurting anyone else." His father told Sam as he walked around the house doing inventory.

"Already done, sir. I will double check everything for you just in case." Sam made quick work of checking each pack.

"You know son," His father began, watching Sam working diligently, "You've really turned over a new leaf. You are getting things done without complaining or asking a bunch of questions and… Well, I'm proud of the man you're becoming."

"T-thank you sir." Sam could hardly contain himself. All of his hard work is finally paying off. He couldfeel himself losing his old life. Sam could feel it slipping away and a hunter was filling the void. Though his excitement of gaining his father's approval was strong, so was the overwhelming sensation of loss. He couldn't quite describe it. The only way he could put it would be having your _best_ friend replaced with a _good_ friend. You like this new person, but you will always miss your best friend. Basic logic would say Sam's old life of being who he wanted to be was his old best friend.

Well, Sam could deal with this new friend of his. He figured that was a shitty example, but that was all he could come up with. His dad lovingly ruffled Sam's hair as he walked past to go find Dean. The hunt was about to begin.

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**So I know this is a short chapter and I promised more action, but the hunt will be in full force next chapter! Please review. Reviews are love 3 **


	5. Chapter 5

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"Sam?" His father had a small smile on his face.

"Sir?" Sam quirked an eyebrow.

"How'd you like to take point, son?" The small smile transformed into an eye-crinkling grin. The trio was currently crunching through the dried leaves in the large forest on the East side of town. The werewolf was supposedly roaming these woods and tonight was the full moon.

"_Dad!_" Dean's irritated voice came from behind him. It was evident Dean didn't want Sam to take point.

"I-It'd be an honor, sir." He barely restrained a smile. "Thank you, sir." Sam moved forward in front of his dad, which left Dean in the back. He felt his father's hand brush across his shoulder as he passed.

Sam was ecstatic. He'd never been allowed to take point before! He could hear hushed whispers filtering up toward him, but he continued walking. Straining to hear, he could only pick up a little of what was said.

"Dad, I don't think…"

"Sam's fine, I wouldn't… more responsible lately… noticed."

"_Exactly!_" Dean spoke a little too loudly. "That's why I'm… worrying me… not the same…"

"…overreacting."

Sam started to get pissed. He knew they were talking about him but he couldn't quite hear what their whole conversation. Sam quickened his pace to keep them from being able to talk.

Rustling to his left caused Sam to stop short. He trained his silver bullet loaded gun at the noise. He didn't want to risk a glance at Dean or his dad, so he raised a hand toward them. Immediately he heard the footsteps cease. In the silence, a low menacing growl emanated from the bushes just a few steps from where Sam was planted. What was more unsettling was the fact that he kept hearing noises from behind him as well. There was only supposed to be one wolf…

Suddenly, the wolf that was in front of him sprung. His quick hand shot the wolf dead in the heart; the naked, human form of a woman fell to the ground at his feet.

"Sammy!" Sam turned around, but it was too late. The second werewolf he suspected flew through the air and plummeted to the earth, taking Sam with it.

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Dean was about to go to his brother and congratulate him on his first werewolf kill when all of the sudden another made an appearance, "Sammy!" he called out, but it was all for nothing. The wolf pounced on him, taking Sam down.

He and his father ran to them. Dean could see the wolf's jaws creeping incredibly close to Sam's neck. He raised his gun to shoot when a shot rang out before he could pull his trigger. The werewolf collapsed onto Sam, shifting into a male body with shredded boxers. He assumed the wolves were probably together in human form. Dean twisted around to see that his father hadn't taken the shot. His dumbfounded expression told him that much. Had Sam been able to do it himself?

Their dad jogged past him to Sam and rolled the corpse off of him. "Sam? Did you…?" His dad didn't finish, he just trailed off.

"Yes… sir." Sam panted out. Dean noted how he painfully clutched his side, his father on the other hand didn't notice.

"Good job, son!" He patted Sam on his chest. "I'm proud of you." His dad held out a hand to help Sam from the ground.

"T-thank you, sir." Sam softly thanked their father as he grasped the outstretched hand. Their dad yanked Sam up with heavy force and then smacked Sam on the back.

He didn't notice Sam wince when he finally made it on his feet, but of course Dean did. Dean noticed everything about the kid. Dean could even see the barely evident sadness in Sam's teal green eyes even though he'd just finished the job practically by himself. Even though they were about four years apart, Dean felt like sometimes he and Sam had twin telepathy. He knew something was wrong with Sammy, and he wasn't going to rest until he got his smart mouthed little brother back. Attitude and all.

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Sam didn't tell their dad that he'd gotten hurt. He didn't want to seem weak or a bother. From the way Dean was watching him, Dean already knew. Well, he'd just have to soldier on. How many times has he seen his dad and Dean get hurt worse than this and had not complained about it? He wasn't going to go bitch to his father about a couple of bruised ribs and a possibly sprained ankle. Sam knew that Dean would try to mother hen him, so he did his best to keep the limp out of his walk as he marched behind his father.

"Sammy? I can tell you're hurt, and-" Dean started, but Sam only moved faster to stay directly behind their dad.

Sam was _not_ weak. Not now anyway. Sure, it hurt like hell to ignore his brother like this, but it was for the best. If his father thought he couldn't handle a little injury like this on his own, he'd never be able to take point on their hunts again!

"I'm fine, drop it… Please." Sam asked, just short of begging. He worked his eyes into the best puppy dog face he could muster effectively ending that argument.

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The ride back to Bobby's house was painful to say the least. The roads were bumpy as hell and his seatbelt was too tight around his tender stomach. The second the Impala came to a stop, Sam was out of the car.

"You okay, son?" Sam heard his father walking around the car to him so he quickly pulled himself together.

"I'm fine, sir. Just a little bruised up from the wolf. Nothing I can't handle." Sam replied nonchalantly. His dad nodded and made his way into Bobby's house. It was still dark out, so Bobby was probably sleeping.

Dean was leaning against the pitch black Impala, watching Sam's every move with a glare. Sam knew Dean was pissed at him, but he just didn't have the energy to care. Holding his head up high, Sam too made his way inside Bobby's house. He could hear Dean's footsteps echoing close behind him.

"Sammy, we need to talk _now_. I am _not _taking no for an answer, so move it." Dean shoved Sam forward to the stairs when he saw their dad come into view.

"Hey, now." He addressed Dean. "Sam just killed _two_ werewolves! I think a small celebration is in order. Come on into the kitchen Sam." He waved him forward with a wink then looked to Dean. "_Dean_…" His father warned, Sam turned and saw Dean's jaw was set and feet planted on the floor. At their dad's words, Dean softened and came into the kitchen, squeezing Sam's wrist to let him know that he wasn't done yet.

"What's this, sir?" Sam seemed to be ending all of his sentences with sir lately… Sam gestured toward the special bottle of whisky that his dad only broke out on special occasions. There was only a little gone for special occasions were few and far between.

"I thought you deserved a little treat for killing those two sons a bitches. This is the first time you've gotten the kill all by yourself and I wanted to congratulate you in the Winchester way." The warm smile that splayed across his dad's lips almost forced Sam to return the gesture.

"_Wow._ I don't know what to say, sir. Thank you." Sam was at a loss for words. His father was actually treating him like he was a part of the family, not a tag along item.

"You were a true hunter back there, Sam. Now… Let's sit and have a drink." His father explained.

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After their dad had two drinks, he retired to his room. He left the bottle with the boys saying they could have as much as they wanted. Dean didn't like that his dad was being so irresponsible. Sure Dean had let Sam have a beer or two with him, but this was liquor. Dean came out of his musings to see that Sam and the bottle were gone.

"Sam?" Dean asked in a low terse voice. "Sammy?" He said a bit louder. Dean noticed the motion detecting lights outside flickered, so he thought his best chance was to check outside.

Dean stepped onto the porch and the first thing he saw was Sam, slumped against the Impala with the bottle to his mouth. He was the picture of misery. Dean wasn't sure if Sam even knew how miserable he was. He was pretty sure that knowing Sam… If he'd pushed his true feelings down, which he _never_ did, it'd come out in spurts. This moment was one of those spurts. Sam must not realize what he's doing to himself. He's been trying to follow their dad's orders so blindly, he's forgotten the _real_ Sam.

His eyes began to tear. Sammy needed help, but he didn't even really know he needed it. Or if he does know something is wrong, he found a reason to continue on with what he's doing to himself. Sam would do that sometimes, find reasons for why he did things that he thought were right… But it wasn't the road to heaven that was paved with good intentions…

"Hey, Sammy?" Dean was cautious. He didn't want to spook the kid.

"Y's sir?" Sam drunkenly gazed at Dean for a moment, and then amended his previous statement. "Oh! De, come join me." He held up the almost empty bottle and swished the contents around.

"I think you've had enough, Sammy." Dean grabbed the bottle from Sam and set it aside. "Are you gonna tell me what's wrong with you or am I gonna have to beat it outta you?"

"I dn't care." Sam stated simply.

"What are you talking about, you don't care. Don't care about what?" Dean was getting agitated now. Mostly at his dad for letting Sam to get so damn drunk with his knowledge.

He laughed without humor. "Anyth'n."

Dean sucked in a sharp breath. "What do you mean anything, Sam? What's gotten into you? You're so _different _and it's honestly scaring the shit out of me." Dean would have made him go up to sleep it off, but the only time he got any answers out of Sam was now since he's drunk.

"Hon'stly? I jus dn't care 'bout huntin'. That's bas'cally our whole life _anyway_. I jus' wanna go to school and coll'ge I wanted Dad's resp'ct and finally got it, De. I dn't care if I'm jus' runnin on auto pil't. I dn't ev'n care that I'm not happy." Sam finally slurred his way through his speech. Dean had a lot to chew on so he decided he'd mull it over while Sam got sobered up.

"Go on upstairs and get some sleep, Sam. We'll talk about this in the morning when you're not drunk, _okay?_" Dean helped his little brother up and walked him to their room. Dean helped get Sam into some sweats and took off his boots. He then laid Sam down on his bed and swaddled him in covers before kicking off his boots and settling down on his own bed.

"De?" he got Dean's attention before Sam was completely unconscious.

"Yeah, Sammy?" Dean asked, standing up from his bed so he could see eye to eye with his brother.

"I _do_ care 'bout you." Sam hardly slurred his speech, brows furrowing from his concentration to get that last sentence out. He then blinked off into sleep before Dean could respond.

"I care about you too… That's why I'm gonna help you little bro." Dean carded his hand through Sam's chestnut hair and then went back to bed. The next day was going to be difficult, but if it was for Sam… Dean would deal with any chick flick moment anyone could dish out.

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**So, what did y'all think? Please review! :)**


	6. Chapter 6

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It was still dark when Sam first woke. He listened for a minute to the rhythmic snoring coming from the bed beside him. Damn, his head was fuzzy. Sam shifted in bed, pulling his knees up to his chest. That was a bad idea.

Sam hissed at the pain in his abdomen. _Shit, I never patched myself up._ Sam slowly rolled out of bed and padded off to the bathroom. Silently locking the door, Sam went to the mirror and gingerly peeled his shirt off. Luckily whenever Dean had changed him into sweat pants, he never messed with his shirt or sweatshirt.

The pain was downright unbearable. Sam clamped his teeth together to keep from screaming as he prodded his bloody, bruised side. His ankle didn't hurt too much so he just fitted it with an Ace bandage. Sam was thankful that his dad had put the medical kit in the bathroom because he wasn't sure he'd be able to get it without being found out. Opening the medicine box, he gathered the necessary tools needed.

Sam first needed to clean the wound to see what he was dealing with. There was so much blood he couldn't quite see how serious the gash was. It had stopped bleeding so that was a good sign. Sam pulled a towel from the half closet and wetted it under warm water from the sink. He carefully dabbed most of the blood away and then noted how serious the cut really was. Even though it stopped bleeding, it was long and jagged. Sam remembered that when he fell with the werewolf on top of him, his shirt caught on a branch so it was pulled up some. That's why his clothes weren't torn, just bloodied.

Another worrying thing was the puss coming from the area. _Great, an infection… Just what I need on top of everything else. _ Sam got some disinfectant and bit down on a tongue depressor while he poured some of the contents onto the gash. He didn't think that it needed stitches so he wrapped his midsection tight with gauze and another Ace bandage. Now that he was all patched up, Sam decided he would need some pain meds to get him through the night without worrying Dean. He popped three of the prescription pills and slowly crept back into the bedroom. Sam lowered himself onto the bed, not realizing what he'd just done. He'd forgotten how much he drank just a few hours ago and then he took pills on top of that.

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It was about five in the morning. An ungodly hour if you ask Dean Winchester. He groaned when he saw the neon green light of the clock next to him flashing _5:11am_. Strangely he was wide awake, he tried to flip over and get some more rest, but a nagging feeling kept him from getting comfortable. With a sigh he propped up and glanced at his little brother.

Normally Dean wouldn't think anything of the fact that Sam wasn't sleeping the way he usually did, but he felt the need to check on him anyway. Usually Sam slept on his stomach with his arms wrapped under the pillow, but Sam lay straight with both arms at his side and wasn't moving at all. There wasn't even the movement of his chest under the sheets…

"Sammy!" Dean yelled. He placed his open palm on his chest and felt nothing. "_SAM._" Feeling for a pulse he almost passed out from relief as he could barely make out the weak beat coming from his brother's neck. "_DAD. BOBBY._" Dean called as loud as possible. He ripped his cell out from the drawer of the table between their beds and dialed _911_. After he hung up with the operator his dad and Bobby came rushing into the room.

"What? What's wrong?" His dad queried.

"It's Sam. I- I don't know what happened. He, I mean he got a little drunk last night but… I just woke up, and had this _feeling_ you know? So I looked over and found him lying like this! He barely has a pulse, Dad. I don't know what to do." Dean couldn't prevent the tears that spilled down his cheeks. He felt so helpless.

His dad kneeled next to the bed and pulled the covers off Sam. He took a small light he had in his pocket and lifted Sam's lids up to check them. His father then placed his ear near Sam's mouth. "He's not choking but he's having a hard time breathing. Dean, I need you to tell me everything that you saw him do from the moment I left you two alone." Dean wanted to try to keep the details short to keep some sense of privacy between the brothers.

"Well, first-" Dean was cut off by the sound of sirens coming up the drive. "I'll tell you at the hospital." Bobby had already gone downstairs to lead the paramedics to Sam. Dean ran his hand through Sam's hair whispering to him everything was going to be alright. Dean heard footsteps barreling into the room but he did not move.

"Sir, I need you to step away." A female voice ordered from behind him.

"No, he's my brother." Dean was adamant about staying with Sam. A rushed sigh told Dean that the woman didn't have time to argue with him as she and her partner went to work on Sam.

"We need to get him to the hospital, _stat_. His vitals are dropping… Carrey, grab the gurney." The lady poked an IV into Sam's arm and placed an oxygen mask on his brother… His baby brother. "_Sir._ We need to move him, now!" The urgency in her voice made Dean jump.

"I'm riding with you." Dean wasn't going to let his baby brother out of his sight.

"We need to go _now_." Carrey looked down at Dean's hand on Sam's head and looked back. "Sir, we need to move him. You can ride in the back but you need to let go for a minute so we can get him situated." Dean released his hold and backed up. "Okay, Lynn on the count of three. One, two…" Lynn and Carrey lifted Sam and got him buckled down. Each grabbed a side of the board and hustled downstairs to the ambulance. After getting Sam in, Dean hopped in the back.

"We will be at Sioux Falls General, you can follow us there." Lynn told a very silent Bobby and his dad. They nodded as she slammed the ambulance door. "Go!" She spoke to the driver. They began to hook more things up to his brother. They made it to the hospital in less than five minutes. Dean tried to follow them into the back when a large man stopped him.

"Please, he's my brother." Dean pleaded with the guy.

"No nonhospital personnel beyond this point." Dean wanted to punch the guy in his smug face. He was about to argue when a petite nurse came up behind him and tapped his shoulder. Dean whirled around to see that she was holding forms for him to fill out. Dean reluctantly swiped the papers from her and went to sit in the waiting area where he could see his dad and Bobby already sitting down. Dean didn't bother giving his dad the forms for him to fill out. He knew every scratch the kid has ever gotten, what he was allergic to… Hell, Dean knew almost everything about Sam. _Almost _everything. Dean checked the boxes he needed to, wrote in only the major injuries that could possibly affect anything they needed to do, wrote in how he's allergic to sulfa in medication and then handed it off to the nurse at the front desk.

None of the three spoke the whole time they waited. His father would stand up and pace for a few minutes and then come and sit down just to jiggle his leg up and down. Bobby used the time the most productively as he went and got him and his dad some coffee. Bobby pulled out his flask and poured a shot into his own cup. Dean caught him so Bobby winked at him and splashed some into Dean's cup too. He had to smile at that, he did love the old man.

About an hour later, an older white haired doctor came out into the room. He pushed his glasses to the end of his nose, "Samuel Singer's family?" Dean sprung from his chair and half sprinted to the doctor.

"I'm his brother, Dean. What's wrong with my brother?" Bobby and his dad had just gotten to the doctor after Dean questioned him.

"I'm Dr. Elliot. I'm treating your brother Samuel." He introduced.

"Sam." Dean corrected. He knew how much he hated being called Samuel.

Dr. Elliot nodded and looked to his father and Bobby. "And you two are?"

"I'm his father, John. This is his uncle, Bobby." His dad spoke up first. "Now, what happened to my son doctor?"

The doctor gestured for the trio to follow him. "Let's walk and talk." He waited until they were through the double doors and into a hallway on the other side before he continued speaking. "Sam suffered from an overdose of medication and alcohol. He apparently took too many pain pills and swallowed them down with alcohol. The alcohol combined with the pills yielded a bad reaction and sent Sam into a light coma. We pumped his stomach so he should be fine for now, but that's not what's troubling me." They had gone upstairs to the fourth floor and were now standing outside room 666. How fitting for the Winchester family…

"What are you talking about doc?" Dean wondered.

"The wound on his left side has become infected, so we are treating that. It hasn't gotten too bad so we are lucky we seemed to have caught it in time. These things can take a turn for the worse, so we'll be keeping a sharp eye on it. We also rewrapped it with clean dressings and put on antibiotic cream to try to keep inflammation down. The fact that he hasn't come out of his coma is troubling as well. With the reason he was brought here, we ruled this as an attempted suicide. So before you go inside, I will let you know that he is wearing soft restraints to keep him from harming himself."

Dean was in utter disbelief. _No way _did Sam try to kill himself. This was Sam! Sure he has been acting weird and said some worrying things to him… But Dean never would have thought Sam would have tried to commit suicide!

"If you don't mind my asking. How did Sam get the wound on his side? From the way it was bandaged up I can tell that a doctor must have done it, but it wasn't in his forms…" _Ha, you don't know how wrong you are._ Though Sam was the best at patching everyone up, he was no doctor.

"Hunting accident." His father answered flatly. The doctor nodded and walked away, leaving them to their thoughts with Sam on the other side of the door.

Dean was the first to walk in. The sight of Sam with his wrists latched to the sides of the hospital bed made him physically sick. "Sam?" Dean slowly made his way to Sam's side and sat in the chair next to him. "Sammy? I know you can hear me. I need you to wake up, okay?"

"Dean." His father crept closer to Sam, eyes never straying from the restraints around Sam's wrists. "You told me you'd explain what happened when I went off to bed last night. Now talk." His dad's cold eyes moved to Dean's.

"Well, you left and then Sam went outside and was sitting against the Impala. He was drinking straight from the bottle when I walked out to check on him. He looked so _miserable_, Dad. He's been acting strange since we left to come out to Bobby's house. I never said anything to you cause you were so happy that you and Sam were getting along. But I know Sam was only doing that for you. To please you, and I think that got to him…" Dean looked to Bobby who nodded in encouragement. "Anyway… So I asked Sam what was going on with him or I would beat him up… and he said that he didn't care. And I was like, what do you mean you don't care? What don't you care about? …Sam said he didn't care about anything, Dad… _ANYthing_. Then… Well he said that he just didn't care about hunting. That he just wanted to go to school and even _college_. He said that he felt like he was running on auto pilot and he wasn't happy, but he didn't care because he was finally getting your respect." Dean finished and just watched his father. So many different emotions crossed his face, he couldn't distinguish them all.

"John?" Bobby placed a hand on his dad's shoulder. "Johnny, Sam needs us to be here for him. We can't expect him to be someone he's not."

His father was silent for a while. When he finally spoke, he spoke words Dean wished he'd never heard. "Sam tried to kill himself. After _everything_ I've done for the boy, he tried to take the coward's way out. He'll never be a Winchester no matter how hard he tries because a _Winchester_ never gives up." His dad brushed Bobby's hand from his shoulder and glared coldheartedly Sam. "Should have known it was too good to be true for Sam to actually act like the hunter I trained him to be. He's just too soft." With that, his father rushed out of the room.

Dean and Bobby gaped at the door. Neither could believe what they'd just heard.

"Dumb son of a bitch." Bobby muttered walking over to Sam and placing a hand on his forehead. "Doesn't he realize coma victims can hear what's going on around 'em?"

"I don't think he'd care." Dean was still standing in the same spot when a small noise caught his attention. It was barely audible, but Dean had his ears trained to hear anything coming from his little brother. He noted Bobby's furrowed brow and hurried to Sam's side. He listened for a moment then he heard the same sound again. It was faint, but gaining strength behind it. Sam moaned once more. "Sammy? Sam, wake up man. Come on, let me see those eyes of yours." Dean spoke desperately. He_ needed_ to talk to him.

Bobby pressed the call button and a nurse popped in. "Everything alright?"

"My nephew is waking up." Bobby answered.

"Ah, I see. Let me check his vitals and then I'll go let his doctor know." She made quick work of checking Sam over. "Oh, and just so you two know… After patients come out of comas, they tend to be a little out of it. Also with the pain medication we have him on, it may contribute to him being a little unaware. We'll need you to be patient with him as he gets his bearings." She left the room without waiting for a response.

"De?" Sam's weak voice brought Dean back to his side.

"Sammy? Sam, I'm here. Don't worry." Dean soothed Sam; he could see that he was getting worked up.

"Uncle Bobby, why can't I move my arms? De? Help me, I can't move my arms!" Sam rasped, his voice raw from when they pumped his stomach no doubt. The heart rate monitor started to rise and Sam's face became flushed.

"Sammy you need to calm down, alright? You're fine. Listen to my voice… _You. Are. Fine._" Sam started to simmer down as Dean carded his fingers through his sweaty hair.

Sam looked to Bobby. "Uncle Bobby, where's Daddy?" His voice was so small, he sounded like a child.

Bobby opened his mouth and shut it a few times, looking like a fish out of water. Finally he got himself together. "He, uh… John, I mean your dad went out to get some food from the cafeteria. He'll be back later son." Bobby patted his arm and looked purposefully at Dean.

"Sam. Um… What I'm going to ask is going to be hard. I need you to tell me the truth, okay?" Dean began, watching Sam cautiously.

"Okay, De." Sam pulled his eyebrows together, obviously wondering where Dean was going with this.

Dean drew in a deep breath. "Sam, did you…" He closed his eyes so he wouldn't have to look at Sam as he asked. "…Did you try to kill yourself?" Biting his lip, Dean opened his eyes to see that Sam looked hurt.

"No, why would you think that?" Legitimate confusion on his face.

"Oh thank _God_. I knew it wasn't true." Dean let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding.

"I'll call that idjit father of yours." Bobby made his way across the room and out the door just as Dr. Elliot came in.

"Sam. Glad to see you're up. How are you feeling?" The doctor was cheery.

"My throat hurts a little and I can't move my arms…?" Sam ended his sentence in a sort of question.

"That is to be expected, we had to pump your stomach because of the pills and alcohol. And the reason you can't move your arms is because he had to restrain you for your own good, just in case-"

"Dr. Elliot. My brother said he never tried to kill himself." Dean interrupted the doctor.

"You didn't?" Dr. Elliot turned his attention back to Sam. "Well then could you tell me what did happen?" Dean could sense the doctor didn't quite believe that Sam hadn't tried to kill himself, but wanted to hear his explanation. Dean wanted to hear it too…

"It was an honest mistake… I- I was drinking… I _know_ that was wrong, but I did it. None of them knew I did." He lied. "Anyway, I passed out for a little bit and when I woke up I, had this pain in my side. I got injured during a, uh…" Sam looked at Dean who mouthed _hunting trip_, "During a hunting trip. So I went and patched myself up and took some pain medication for it, forgetting I had alcohol still in my system." The doctor seemed to buy the story and to be honest, so did Dean. Dean had the uncanny talent of sensing when his brother was lying, and he felt that Sam was indeed telling the truth.

"Well then." The doctor seemed to mull things over in his head for a moment before going to Sam's bed and unhooking the restraints. "I believe you." He smiled. "I'll let you and your brother have some time alone. And no more drinking until you're older young man." Dr. Elliot scolded.

"Yes, sir." Sam agreed. The doctor left the room.

"Dean, I'm sorry I scared you. I'm telling the truth, it was a mistake." Sam's voice began to quicken.

"I know. I couldn't believe you would have done that to yourself. You'd never check out early. I'm just too awesome of a brother to leave behind. _Bitch._" Dean smirked, trying to bring back some normalcy into the situation.

Sam dramatically rolled his eyes. "Bobby said he was gonna _call_ Dad… So where is he? …_Jerk._"

_Crap._

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**Yes! Chapter 6 is finally done. Sorry I took so long getting it posted… Please review! Reviews make me more motivated to write, so the more reviews I get the faster I'll post the next chapter!**


	7. Chapter 7

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"Are you going to tell me or what? Cause if Bobby's going to _call _him it means he's not here… What's wrong, Dean?" Sam watched his brother. He could see that he felt uncomfortable. What had happened when he was unconscious?

Dean let out a sharp breath. "Dad left…"

Sam already figured that. "Care to elaborate? I assumed he left, I just don't know _why_ he did."

"He thought you'd tried to kill yourself, Sammy…" Sam could feel his brother eyeing him.

"Shit." Sam just couldn't believe it. "God damn it!" He exclaimed.

"What? You okay, Sammy?" Dean held his hands out like he wanted to help but didn't know what to do.

"No, I'm _not_ okay! After _everything_ I did to try to… And now Dad thinks that I… He'll never want to see me again…" Sam deflated.

"Don't talk like that. Bobby's gonna get a hold of Dad and he'll be back, don't worry." Dean looked like he was about to say more when the door swung open and a very irritable John Winchester walked in. Bobby stood behind him, looking apologetic.

"Samuel Winchester, what the _hell_ is wrong with you?" Sam opened his mouth to speak but his dad was having none of that. "And before you start, Bobby already told me what happened. I know you didn't try to off yourself… But you were still _so_ irresponsible as to drink the amount you did, take pain pills, and _hide_ an injury from us! Are you that _stupid_, son? I thought I trained you better than to cover up _any_ wound during a hunt! Damn it, Sam. What do you have to say for yourself?" His father's face was glowing red.

Sam didn't know what to say. His dad was right… He was irresponsible and stupid. His father _did_ train him better than his actions of late. Sam didn't have anything to say for himself.

"That's what I thought. Nothing." His father glared down at him with piercing eyes.

"_Dad._" Dean complained.

"We're leaving… _Now._" His dad tossed a pair of jeans and a white v neck t-shirt at him. "Get dressed. There's a hunt in Baltimore so there's a long drive ahead of us."

"But Dad, Maryland is almost a days drive! In Sam's condition-"

"Sam wouldn't be in this _condition_ if it weren't for his ignorance." His father turned to Sam. "Let's just say this is punishment for your royal screw up." With that, he left the room.

Bobby was the first to speak up. "Sam, you're daddy's just… Well, he…"

"Sam, what Bobby's trying to say is… Dad's an _ass_ okay?" Dean brought his arms up and let them drop in exasperation. "He doesn't know what he's talking about. None of this was your fault. He _left _the bottle for us to drink. I mean yeah, you should have told us you were hurt… But it wasn't your fault, it was a _mistake_…"

In the logical part of his mind, Sam knew everything his brother was saying was true. He just wasn't thinking straight at that moment. All he could think about was the fact that his father was disappointed in him. Sam had failed his father and it was all his fault, no matter what Dean or Bobby had to say. Without a word, Sam warily pushed himself from his bed and into the solitude of the bathroom. He shut his eyes and took a couple of calming breaths. Quickly changing from his hospital gown into his outfit for the day, Sam took a few more breaths and walked back into his room. Dean and Bobby were in one corner of the room speaking in tense whispers that immediately ceased once Sam joined them. Each of the men watched him with tired eyes. He could tell the situation was wearing on them just as much as it was on him. Sam knew he should say something to ease them, he just couldn't quite think of anything to say. He decided to just watch as his feet made scuff marks on the tile until someone else broke the silence.

And again, it was Bobby to break it. "Do you have a coat Sam? It's nippy out, I don't want ya to catch somethin' when you're on the mend from that werewolf attack." Sam shook his head. "Well then," Bobby shrugged out of his army green, hooded cargo jacket and passed it to Sam. Sam watched Bobby blankly. Was he really giving Sam his jacket? "Have my jacket. Don't worry. You can keep it Sammy. Family don't end with blood, boy and I don't mind giving my things to family. You two and your daddy are all I got, and I want you to keep safe. Call me and keep in touch, ya hear me?" Bobby now addressed both Sam _and_ Dean. Each brother nodded and Bobby pulled them into a bear hug. "Now hurry out before someone gets wise to what y'all are up to." With a smirk, Bobby went on his way. Sam pulled on the too large jacket and inhaled the scent of gunpowder and car exhaust. It smelt like home.

"Come on, Sammy. Let's head out. Hopefully Dad'll let us stop for some food… I'm starving!" Dean exclaimed. Sam didn't feel much like eating… In fact, he felt very uneasy. Most likely because he knew he'd be crammed in the back seat of the Impala for almost twenty-four hours straight with his disappointed father. Anger he could deal with, but _not_ disappointment.

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Nineteen hours and fifty-seven minutes later, the trio finally got to a motel on the outskirts of Baltimore, Maryland. Sam, though he didn't even _want_ to leave Bobby's, was so happy they were at their destination. His tall frame barely fit in the back seat… Being injured didn't help either. The whole ride was sheer agony, as he counted the minutes until they made it there. Dean had tried to start a conversation with Sam, but he only nodded or shook his head in response. Occasionally Sam would make a noise of acknowledgement, but those were few and far between. His dad left his truck with Bobby because apparently there was something wrong with the breaks. Honestly, Sam just thought his father wanted to keep an eye on him.

"Did you hear me?" Dean was turned in his seat facing Sam.

"Hmm?" Sam was brought out of his revere and wasn't sure what he'd said to him.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Dad said that there's a shapeshifter here. He doesn't think we'll be here long so he's not gonna enroll you in school." Sam nodded and got out of the car. "Sam? You _have _to talk to me, man. I'm dying over here!" Dean raised his voice. Sam could tell he was upset with him for not talking much. He wasn't _trying _to ignore him. He was just so tired of everything that he just blocked him out.

"I'm sorry, Dean." Sam stated simply.

"Sorry about what?" Dean placed a gentle hand on Sam's shoulder.

"I'm sorry I'm such a screw up." Sam nudged Dean's hand off and got out of the car. From there he proceeded into their motel room leaving Dean still sitting in the car. He could hear his brother call after him, but he never stopped. Every muscle in his body urged him to turn around and go back to Dean, but his mind wouldn't let him.

Sam saw his father pouring himself a cup of coffee. "Guns need cleaning. Get to work."

"Yes sir." He replied softly.

He realized there was really no point in even going back to saying _sir_ to his father. He'd lost all respect and trust from his dad ever since he stupidly got himself into trouble. Sam figured he would probably never gain what he had lost, but he wasn't going to make it any worse. He also needed to try to reconcile with Dean. In a matter of a few days, it seemed like Sam had lost everything. He lost his bond with his brother, lost his ambition for school, and destroyed the relationship he was building with his father.

Sam placed the gun he had forgotten he'd been cleaning down and started to get up to talk to his brother. Just then, Dean stalked through the room, grabbed his cell and slammed the door behind him as he went back out to the Impala. Well, right now was probably not the time to try to talk to him. He'd try again later.

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**I know this chapter isn't super long, but I wanted to end it here. The next chapter will be much better, so please stay tuned. Please review!**


	8. Chapter 8

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"Bobby?" Dean was fed up with Sam's attitude. All he wanted to do was help him! He needed to talk to someone and since his dad had an even worse attitude then Sam, he called Bobby.

"Dean, you okay boy? You don't sound so great… Sam good?" Dean knew that Bobby would know what was wrong. Bobby seemed to _always_ know.

"I- God, Bobby… I really don't know what's wrong. Sam has been acting worse than before. He won't even hardly talk to me, Bobby. Dad's being an ass and I think something really awful is going on, but if Sam won't talk to me… How am I supposed to help him?" Dean's voice went from conversational to frantic yelling during the course of his rant.

"Calm down, son. Just fill me in on what went on after y'all left the hospital…" Bobby started, and then added, "Dean? Sam's gonna be _fine_, alright? He has the both of us. And we'll get your daddy on board once we can get through that stubborn, idjit head of his. Sam's just as stubborn as him, so we're gonna have to be careful about how we approach this…"

"Okay… Well, the whole ride Sam never even spoke. Not _one_ word, Bobby. He'd only nod or shake his head if he thought I could see him, otherwise he'd just make a noise to let me know he was listening." Dean went silent for a moment thinking on what he'd just said.

"Dean?"

"Oh, yeah right… So I tried to get him to say something to me, _anything!_ The first words out of his mouth after almost twenty hours was, 'I'm sorry Dean.' I asked what he was sorry about and he said he was sorry he was such a screw up." A deep sigh resonated from the other end of the line.

"Then what happened?" Bobby queried in a monotone voice.

"He didn't even give me the chance to reply. Sam just up and left me sitting by myself in the Impala. Dad had already gone in, so I don't know what if anything was said inside. I was pissed…" _hurt_, he amended in his head. "So I went into the room and grabbed my cell and came outside to call you." When Dean finished, he was close to tears. He gave a small sniff and waited for Bobby to help him. To tell him what he should do.

"Where are you?" Was all that was said.

"We're in Baltimore, Maryland staying at the Fogbourne Inn. It's just outside of-"

"I know where you're at. I'll be there as soon as I can." Just then the line went dead.

"Bobby?" Dean spoke into the phone. "_Damn it._" Dean steeled himself to go back and face Sam. He knew he had backup on the way in the form of Bobby, but he needed to try to make some headway.

Dean creaked the door open a hair to see if anything new had happened in his short absence. Nothing out of the ordinary stood out. His father was sitting on one of the double beds on his laptop, most likely researching the hunt further. Sam was sitting at the table methodically cleaning one of their guns. What really scared him was once Sam was done cleaning it, he just stared at the gun. A strange expression crossed his face and that's when Dean sprung.

"Sammy, _no!_" Dean ripped the gun from Sam's grasp.

"What the _hell_ is going on, Dean?" His father shoved the computer from his lap and was at his side in an instant. Dean didn't answer; he just kept his eyes trained on Sam. "_Sam?_" Dean watched with pity as Sam hunched his shoulders defensively when his father said his name.

"Sam, I need to talk to you… _Now._" Dean didn't let him have a chance to respond. He grabbed Sam by the arm and tugged him out to the Impala. The second the door slammed shut, he whipped around and grasped Sam harshly by the shoulders. "What the _fuck_ was that?"

============SPN==============

Sam was taken aback by his older brother's tone. "What are you talking about, Dean?"

"You know _exactly_ what I'm talking about so don't play dumb with me." Dean, though they were about the same height, loomed over Sam.

"I… I…" Sam did know what he was talking about. He just didn't want to admit anything to his brother just incase they weren't on the same train of thought.

"You were looking at that gun like you wanted to do something more with it than just clean it, Sammy. And I could have _sworn_ I saw it twitch in your direction!"

_Shit._ They were on the same thought line… "Dean," Sam tried to play it down. "I think you're overreacting. I was just doing as I was told. Dad said clean the guns, I was cleaning the guns." Dean obviously didn't buy anything Sam was saying.

"I know what I saw, Sammy. The bullshit you're spewing might work on Dad, but _not_ me. You should know that by now." Dean's arms crossed, letting Sam know there was no way around the situation.

Sam breathed in deep and let out a loud sigh. "I wasn't going to _do_ anything…" It was true.

"You shouldn't have even _thought_ about it!" Dean bellowed.

"Have _you_ never thought about it?" Sam matched his volume, and then clamped his teeth down too hard onto his lip. He could taste the coppery blood pool into his mouth. He knew he'd said too much.

Dean staggered back a step and watched Sam in disbelief. Obviously Dean had tried to convince himself he hadn't seen anything and wanted Sam to concur. Sam blew that escape right out the window and now he had to face what was coming next.

What he did not expect was for Dean to pull him into an embrace. He felt like a small child again having Dean hug him. Sam didn't even sense it coming, but once he was in his brother's arms he just let everything go. His body shook violently from his sobs and that only made Dean tighten his hold on him as if trying to hold the pieces of Sam together.

Sam clutched desperately to Dean's shirt and then abruptly stopped. He tried to pull himself away from Dean, suddenly embarrassed. Sam knew it was wrong of him to have let his weakness show, even in front of his brother. Dean wouldn't let him go though. Sam could hear his breathing hitch and knew Dean wanted to get himself in control before he let his face be shown. It took only a minute, well sixty eight seconds to be exact until Dean released him and took a step back.

His eyes were brimmed in red and his green eyes showed nothing but determination. "When you OD'd on those pills…" Dean began. "It _was_ an accident, right?"

"Yes, Dean." Sam sighed. He knew this would come into question.

Dean shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. "Have you ever… _Tried_ to do it? Like, for real _kill _yourself?"

"No." Sam spoke softly, hardly a whisper. He had thought seriously about doing it, but had never gone through with it.

"How many times have you thought about doing it?" Dean kept pushing him.

Sam put a hand over his eyes and traced the length of his face. "There are some things you just don't want to know, alright?

Dean wasn't going to back off so easily. "Sam… I-" Dean shut his eyes tight and bit down on his lip. Finally when he opened his eyes, the anguish was clear on his face. Sam had to look away. "I _need_ to know how long you've felt like this… I'm your big brother. I'm supposed to know what's going on with you and if this has been going on for a long time-" He cut off and waited for Sam's answer.

"I don't want you to feel responsible for how I feel, Dean. No matter how many years I've felt that way." Sam realized again too late that he'd let his big mouth keep flapping and revealed more to Dean than he wanted to. He'd said _years_, not months or days…

"_Years?_ How many years are we talking, Sam? One, two?" Dean seemed more upset with himself than with Sam.

"Since I was eleven. Right before I found Dad's journal and found out about the supernatural." Sam bowed his head then suddenly jerked it back up to add, "But _none_ of it is because of you, Dean. I don't want you to put any of this on yourself. You've been there for me whenever I needed you. It's my fault that I've been shutting you out lately. I want everything to go back to the way things were. I just… _God_, Dean. It's just so hard to keep going in this damn life. The moving from state to state, losing friends, trying to make _new_ ones, monsters around every corner trying to kill you… I don't want this life, Dean. I want to be normal, not some freak."

"Sam, you're not a freak."

"Yes. Yes I am. I've always known I was different. And I guess not wanting to hunt and only wanting to get good grades and go to college made me the outcast in the family. I'm hardly a Winchester. I'm surprised Dad hasn't disowned me already." Sam gritted his teeth as he spoke of his father.

"You are Samuel Winchester, sixteen year old geek-boy extraordinaire. And I am your awesome big brother… Dad would never disown you, and if he tried to then he'd have me to deal with." Dean smiled and ruffled Sam's hair. "Now that we're talking again and I am in full _chick flick_ mode," Sam rolled his eyes at that, "I want you to tell me honestly… Have you ever _almost_ done any harm to yourself, but _didn't_? Like, backed out? Cause as much as you don't think it matters, it really _does._"

"Dean, we need to get inside. Dad said he wanted to head out later tonight. He thinks that they aren't shifters but a black dog." Sam evaded his question. He knew of _one_ time when he'd been so close to doing it…

"When'd he say that?"

"When you were out here conspiring against me with Bobby." Sam smirked slightly at Dean's dumbfounded expression. "Walls are thin." He explained.

"Well. Dad can just wait. I'm not going anywhere until you answer me, Sam." Sam turned away and tried to make it to the motel door before Dean could get to him. "_Sam._" Unfortunately Sam was not quick enough and Dean caught him by the arm and pulled him back to the Impala, which was a safe distance away from the motel.

"_FINE._ I'll tell you. But you're not going to like it." Dean folded his arms across his chest and waited. "I'd just turned fourteen, I think it was a few months after my birthday. I actually think it'll be two years ago tomorrow." Sam mused. "Anyway… You and Dad left me to go on a hunt you deemed too dangerous for me to go on."

"I remember that. It was that skin walker in Dallas, right?" Dean interjected.

"Yeah." Sam agreed. "Right before y'all left, Dad and I got in a _hug_e fight. Like a knocking shit down and throwing things around the room type of fight. I wanted to come along to help. I kept telling him that it wasn't the wendigo he thought you were after, but he wouldn't listen to me. You were at work so it was just he and I, which is never good. So he kept telling me how wrong and _stupid_ I was… How he was the hunter and I was the child that needed to learn my place. That I'd never be a true hunter unless I trusted family. That's when I told him I didn't even _want _to hunt… God, Dean… If you had seen his face." Sam pinched the bridge of his nose. "He kept screaming about how I was worthless and I wasn't the son he wanted or needed. How you and him would be just fine without me. He _meant_ on the hunt… Well at least that's what I think he meant _now_. _Then_, I believed he meant he didn't need me in his life in general. Dad said he was going to go out to stock up on some things so he left. I made it in my mind that I wouldn't be there when he got back."

"_Sam._" Dean started, but Sam held up a hand.

"You said you wanted to know everything, Jerk… So here it is." Sam ignored the '_bitch_' coming from his brother and continued. "Anyway. So I went to your duffle and his duffle and packed it so that when you found out I was right, you'd be able to kill the thing. I took one of the guns and brought it to the bathroom… I didn't want you to have to clean anything, so I sat on the edge of the tub so the blood would go down the drain." Sam heard the choked up sound coming from where Dean was standing, but he kept his gaze fixed on the ground before him. "I wasn't going to leave a note, but I didn't want you to think it was your fault. So I wrote a long message for you, not for Dad… I held the gun to my head and cocked it. My hand was trembling so much I leaned my wrist on the wall so I wouldn't miss… I was about to do it. My finger pulled down on the trigger just a slight bit, not enough for it to go off when I heard the door open. I briefly considered doing it right then, until I heard you call my name. I just wasn't able to pull the trigger when you were there. I _couldn't_. So I put the gun on safety and stashed it under the sink and came out." Sam looked up and noticed Dean's mouth was slightly agape. He seemed stunned beyond words.

"I thought something was wrong…" Dean began after what seemed like a lifetime. "I _felt_ it. The look in your eyes when you came out of the bathroom kept me up at night. I never knew why…" Dean watched Sam carefully. "So you were really going to do it? You wrote a note and everything?" He asked. His tone suggesting he hoped he'd heard wrong and his brother was just fine.

Sam laughed once without humor. "Still have it."

Dean quirked a brow, "Still have _it?_"

"The note." Sam explained.

"_Why?_ Why do you still have that?" Dean seemed incredulous. Sam knew he'd think that was weird.

"Every time I feel like I'm drifting, I'll pull out the letter and it keeps me grounded. It reminds me that I'm still here and _why_ I am."

"I want to see it." Dean demanded sharply.

"Not right now, Dean. We need to get packed and head out. Maybe… Maybe later. After the hunt." Sam turned away from his brother and walked back into the motel room where his father was waiting.

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**I hope y'all enjoyed this chapter! There are only going to be one or two more chapters left, so please keep reading. I love all of your reviews… Keep them coming! **


	9. Chapter 9

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"Dean, I looked into it further and found that it's not a shifter we're after. It's a-"

"Black dog. Yeah, Sammy told me you found that out." Dean cut their father off. "When are we going to hunt the son of a bitch?"

"I thought _Sam_ told you _everything._" His dad said in a very snarky tone. Obviously he was still displeased with Sam and didn't want him giving out information he'd found.

Sam had had enough. His inner rebel was coming out and he could feel it tugging at his last strings of control. "I can tell him now if you want. I want to make sure that I tell him _everything_ so that _you_ won't have the chance to… because of _course_ that was my intention… _Sir._" Sam tacked on that last word like icing on the cake.

"Here we go." Dean muttered.

"I'm so glad to see the _real_ Samuel come back. I knew the other Sam wouldn't last long. Should have known I was in for a _disappointment._" His dad watched him with dark, scrutinizing eyes.

The burn in Sam's eyes dissipated. What was he doing? Why was Sam trying to pick a fight with his father before a dangerous hunt? Sam deflated and backed away a few steps. He hadn't noticed how close the two were so he turned his back on his father and tried to escape outside. It was beginning to get dark and he knew they were going to be heading out for the hunt soon… But if Sam didn't get away from his father soon, he was afraid of what could happen.

"Sam, don't you turn away from me young man. I am your father and I _forbid_ you to leave this room." That was the last straw.

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Sam spun on his heel and steered himself in their dad's direction. "What are you going to do then? _Huh?_ I can leave whenever the fuck I want because I see no father standing in front of me." Sam's voice dropped to a menacing snarl. Dean knew this was going down hill far too fast, but he wasn't quick enough to catch it. He started to walk forward to separate the two when the sound of flesh hitting bone sounded he was too late. The second his father's fist swung around and connected with Sam's face, all bets were off.

Dean moved forward and caught Sam just as he lunged for his father. He could hardly hold his moose of a brother back as he continued to try to charge forward.

"You son of a bitch. I have done everything for this family! I hate hunting and yet, here I am!" Dean continued to push Sam back toward the door; each shove became easier and easier. He figured Sam just wanted to let his father know what he'd wanted to say. He didn't really want to fight their father, but Dean wasn't going to take any chances. He kept a solid grip on Sam's flexed bicep as he leaned forward but made no other move toward their dad.

The shock that had settled on his father's face after hitting Sam and seeing his reaction was switched out for his authoritarian, military face. As if watching a subordinate loose his shit in front of him and was only humoring him by listening. "Are you finished?"

"There's a _hell_ of a lot more I have to say to you." Sam looked to Dean and then finished what he wanted to say. "I _never_ wanted to disappoint you. I know you did the best you could for us… But I realized that no matter how _hard_ I tried, you were never going to accept me for who I am. I even tried to change myself for you and look where we ended up. There's just no pleasing you unless I blindly follow your orders and I just can't keep that up, Dad. So _this_ is the real me." Sam held his arms out to his side, a bit awkwardly since Dean never let go of one of his arms. "I may not want to hunt, but I do the best I can. I may not like moving from state to state, but I ride along anyway. I may not agree with you and I'll argue, but I will _never_ lose respect for you. Now…" Dean released his hold on Sam as he reached up to wipe the blood trickling from his nose. "Say something, Dad."

His father stood in eerie silence for a very long moment. "Leave." His voice was so low Dean almost didn't catch it. He'd hoped he had heard wrong.

"What?" Sam apparently didn't hear him or hoped for the same thing.

"Pack your bags and _leave._" There was no nonsense in his tone. His father was serious.

"Dad, you've _got_ to be joking. Why in the hell-" Dean's incredulous voice was the only sound in the room beside the heavy breathing coming from each Winchester.

"If he doesn't want to be here, he can leave. He said himself he didn't even want to hunt. Hunting is the family business and if he wants out from hunting, he wants out of this family." His father spoke in a very matter of fact voice.

"_Yeah_, he said he doesn't want to hunt. He said a lot of other things too, Dad! You are not kicking my brother out. If he leaves, I leave. End of story." Dean fumed.

"Dean." His brother's broken voice cut through his anger and he softened immediately. "You're going to stay here. If he wants me to leave… I'll leave."

Dean turned back to his father and saw nothing but disdain. "_Dad?_" He tried. The only response he got was the crossing of his dad's arms as if to set his decision. His small family was tearing apart at the seams and Dean had no idea of how to fix it. What made everything worse was the look in Sam's eyes. The once lively teal green of Sam's eyes grayed, tears were brimming in his eyes. It looked as if all the fight had been ripped from him and harbored away by his father.

Dean felt frozen. He saw Sam gathering his things, but made no move to pull him back. Before the realization of the scene before him could truly take effect, Sam was gone. "_Sammy!_" He called, but his father placed a restraining hand on his shoulder.

"Dean, we have work to do." Dean shoved the hand from his shoulder and bolted for the door.

"Sam!" He cried into the night. He heard nothing but the sound of the neighbors hollering at him for being too loud. Dean didn't care; he had made a huge mistake in not grabbing his little brother while he was still in reach.

"_**SAMMY!**_"

===========SPN=============

The night air was frigid. It nipped at his exposed neck and tender nose. Sam wandered the streets, huddled in his coat. _Wait… This isn't my coat. _ Sam realized he was wearing Bobby's jacket and the tears that he'd fought off finally made their first appearance. Sam reached into the pocket and found his cell. He thanked his almost nonexistent lucky stars he kept it with him. In his haste to leave the building, he'd only taken one of his bags. It was a backpack he used to use for school, but now used for hunting. The edges were all torn and frayed, but still useful. It served its purpose though it was a bit rough. Sam couldn't help but feel his backpack was a metaphor for himself. Being the determined kid he was, Sam decided he'd go and kill off the black dog himself. Then he'd prove to his father he was good enough when Dean and him found the thing dead in the wilderness.

Sam took a look at his phone and noted the time. It was almost nine at night, which meant Bobby would probably be awake since in Sioux Falls it was only one hour behind them. Sam punched in speed dial three and Bobby picked up on the first ring.

"_Sam?_ Sam, where are you? You're brother's worried sick 'bout you boy!" Bobby's grouchy voice came through.

Sam rolled his eyes. "I've been gone five minutes…"

"I don't care if you've been gone five minutes or five _hours_, Sam. Why did you leave your family?" Sam figured Bobby had only gotten part of the story otherwise he wouldn't be asking him why he left.

"I guess you didn't talk to Dean long, did you…" Sam inquired.

"Well, no. All he said was you and your daddy got in a fight and you left and he didn't know where you were." He explained.

"I'm f-"

"Sam, do _not _say you're fine. If you were _fine_ you'd be sitting in your motel room with your brother and dad. Now, tell me the whole story." Bobby sounded worn out.

Sam decided there was no point in hiding anything from Bobby. He was more of a father to him than his dad was, so he didn't want to lie to the man. Sam delved into the whole story, leaving out a few details he spoke about with Dean and then waited patiently. The silence on the other line was deafening.

"There is no way in _hell_ you are hunting a black dog by yourself. Not even a hunter with five times the experience of John and I put _together_ would try to do that." Bobby's voice was hard coming from the other end.

"I have to do this, Bobby. I just want to let you know… In case I don't-"

"Sam Winchester, so help me!" Bobby cut in.

"I just want to let you know how much you mean to me. You're like a father to me, and you'll never know how glad I am that I met you. And tell Dean that what he's looking for will be inside the book he bought me for my fourteenth birthday in my duffle." With that, he ended the call. He felt horrible for doing this against Bobby's wishes. He was his family. It's just that this was something he had to do. Sam, without realizing it had begun his trek into the woods.

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"Bobby?" Dean answered his phone. He was already in the Impala with a very reluctant father on his way to find his wayward brother.

"Dean! Thank God you answered. Where are you?"

"Me and Dad are out looking for Sammy. What's wrong? Did you talk to him?" Dean's frantic voice caused his father to pull over to the side of the road.

"What?" His father demanded.

"_Shhh._" Dean held up a finger and continued listening to Bobby.

"Yeah I talked to the damn idjit! His fool ass is gonna try to take down the monster himself!" Bobby yelled into the receiver.

"_WHAT?_ What else did he say?" Dean was bouncing in his seat, he briefly considered bolting out the door and running after Sam.

"He said that you'd find what you're looking for in his duffle in some book you bought him for his fourteenth birthday?" His statement came out as a question.

Sam must not have filled him in on what exactly would be found in the book. Dean suddenly got a sharp pain in his stomach at the realization of what had been just said. Sam knew there was a chance he would not make it, and he wanted Dean to have the letter he'd written for him when he'd tried to… Sam knew he was on a suicide mission and wanted Dean to get his last goodbyes if he wasn't able to deliver them himself.

"_Fuck!_ …Bobby, _where-are-you-now?_" His rushed words formed into one.

"I'm about an hour out. I hopped a plane cause I had a feeling I would be needed _sooner_ rather than later." The worried voice on the other line mirrored Dean's own voice as he responded.

"We're going after him. Go to the motel and wait for us there, okay? You'll know which room is ours by the salt lines." Dean knew that he'd want to come help, but he also knew he'd need him there to help. He didn't want to put him in danger.

"Fine. Anything goes wrong, you best call me… Ya hear?" His concern hit Dean like a ton of bricks.

"I will." Dean shut the phone and pointed forward to where he could see the edge of the wooded park. He knew that's where Sam would be if he were going after the black dog, so that's where Dean would have to be. He looked to his father who was watching him with large eyes. Dean pointed in the direction of the trees, "_Drive._"

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**Thank you so very much for your reviews! They all mean a lot to me. I love reading them and taking the time to reply to each one! So keep them coming! And I lied… I'll most likely have two more chapters after this one. I was planning on having the hunt in this chapter, but then I decided on the plot twist of Sam being thrown out. I wanted the hunt to be in it's own chapter, so stay tuned.**


	10. Chapter 10

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The crack of thunder caused Sam to jump. He'd seen the flash of light preceding it, but it freaked him out nonetheless. It was partially because of the fact that he knew he was not alone in the woods. Goosebumps rose on his arms and he had a strange tingling feeling coursing through his body. Sam felt as though he'd gone far enough into the dense brush, so he planted himself behind a bush to set himself up. Black dogs could be slain with silver, and boy did he pack a lot of it. Just incase the thing got the jump on him, Sam hung a silver crucifix around his neck. If it decided to go for his jugular, it'd get a mouthful of silver with it.

Sam reached around and unzipped his pack to retrieve his gun that was filled with silver bullets, and a sheathed silver knife. He put the knife into his back pocket and held his gun at the ready. Using his hunter's instincts, Sam surreptitiously investigated his surroundings. Not seeing anything with his naked eye, he closed his eyes to listen. The sounds of crickets filled the night air with their song, the rumbling thunder in the distance and the light patter of rain on the canopy was all that could be heard.

_Snap._ Sam hunched down, keeping his head below the level of the shrub he was behind and his hand steadying the gun. Trying his hardest to keep his breathing in check, he listened once again for the sound that had triggered his senses. He was on high alert. Sam discerned with sudden morbid humor that the _hunter_ was becoming the _hunted_.

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"Do you see 'em?" Dean set the pace for his father, which was practically a sprint.

His father panted behind him. "How the hell am I going to see him if we're weaving through trees like a couple of mad men?"

Dean reluctantly slowed his speed to that of a slower, power walk. _God… He could be anywhere by now. Why did I wait so long to go after him? Why didn't I grab him before he even left? If anything happens to him…_ "Dad?" Dean noticed there was no sound of crunching leaves signaling his father was behind him. He turned and his father was standing still, his eyes downcast on a small object partially covered in leaves. "Dad, what's that?" His father stooped down to grasp the item in his hand and then turned it to face Dean. It was Sam's cell phone. "Is that-?"

"Oh, he's here alright…"

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Sam looked in his pack once again to find the extra bullets just incase. It was practically pitch black besides the faint moonlight filtering through the tall trees. He reached into the pocket of Bobby's jacket to use his cell to show some light so he could see easier. There was nothing in the pockets but lint and some loose change. _Damn it. Must have dropped it…_ Another twig snapped, closer to Sam than before.

Adrenaline soared through his veins as he blindly felt for the extra cartridge of bullets when lightening flashed again, illuminating a shadowy figure in his peripheral vision. Sam threw his arm out and shot into the night. It sounded in unison with the thunder. Rain began to shower down in sheets of grey. His visibility was cut in half, and it wasn't that great to begin with. What was _worse_ was that the pounding of the raindrops left him deaf to the sounds of the intruding monster.

Sam wiped his drenched bangs from his face and blinked through the water invading his eyes. A deep, growling came from about five feet away. As if on cue, the lightening struck casting the black dog in it's light. It charged forward, knocking Sam into the bush he was using as cover. It had one of Sam's arms pinned down with the crushing weight of it's paw. The sheer size was astonishing. Up close, it's grotesque features did seem dog-like… but only just. The skin was patched in tufts of black fur and it's exposed skin was bone white. The elongated mouth was pulled up on the sides in a snarl. It's bright, glowing red eyes mirrored Sam's own horrified face right back to him. There was no pupil, just blood red. The thing snapped it's jaws inches from Sam's face. He put free hand to good use and kept it's vicious teeth at bay. For one splitting moment, Sam wished he had never come on his own.

His fear was replaced by determination. Dean's face came invaded his mind. He could almost hear his voice telling him, "_Don't give up, Sammy. Don't you get yourself killed!_". Sam could feel newfound strength radiating from his brother's imagined words. Even if his father never found out about any of this, Sam _knew_ he had to kill it. Not only for his and Dean's approval, but for _himself_ as well.

With all his might, Sam shoved his hand into the neck of the beast, cutting it's air supply off. It made a slight whimper and ran to the side, leaving Sam for the moment. The rain had let up a bit, so he could now see his situation. His arm lie limp in the mud, most likely numbed from the cold and possibly broken. Sam's legs were fine but his head hurt. He concluded he must have hit it when the creature pounced on him. He could have a concussion but with the gravity of the hunt, his senses were still sharp.

Sam quickly recovered and scooted in the mud until his back was against the rough bark of a tree. With his back covered, he could now focus on a narrower area of attack. What Sam had first assumed to be a huge storm passed almost as soon as it began. The rain was no more than a light sprinkle and the thunder had lessened. His eyes, which were now used to the darkness, spotted an unnatural red light in the shrubs to his left side. He realized not a moment too soon that the light was from the eyes of the black dog. Sam gripped his gun tight in his usable hand and aimed.

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By the time the second gunshot rang out, Dean was beyond frantic. He was running in circles like a chicken with his head cut off. "_Sammy!_" He called into the night. Dean's flashlight bobbed up and down with each step he took.

"Dean, wait a second."

"What?" His father shushed him so Dean trained his ears to listen for anything out of the ordinary. It was far away, but it was there. A muffled scream echoed its way through the trees to Dean and there was no mistaking who it was coming from. Dean knew it was his little brother. He could make out the anguish in his tone as he called out. "_**SAMMY!**_"

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Sharp fangs tore through the tender flesh of his stomach once more and again he cried out in pain. Sam desperately clutched at the saturated soil, scrambling for purchase when his fingers brushed across knife that had fallen out of his back pocket when he fell the second time. Unfortunately the gunshot only grazed the beast and it got a hold of Sam before he could get another shot off.

"_Sammy?_" He heard his name being called over the heavy snarls above him. _Dean. _The creature snapped it's neck up and made a move to chase after who he presumed was Dean. Sam couldn't let it get him.

"_Hey!_" It turned it's attention back to Sam who had used the creature's distraction to grip the knife in his hand. Before he could make any move to harm the beast, it's razor sharp teeth clamped forward. Sam could smell the rancid odor of rotting flesh coming from it's mouth. With one swift motion, Sam jammed the blade into the black dog's neck. Blackish blood spilled down onto him as he listened to the sizzle of the silver coming into contact with the dog's body. It let out a horrendous howl of pain followed by two gunshots. It would not go down that easily. It stumbled off of Sam and went into the direction that Sam had heard the shots. "_**NO!**_" With every ounce of energy he could muster, Sam threw himself onto the back of the creature. He glanced upward to see the horrified eyes of his father a mere few feet away, Dean was shoved behind him.

The beast bucked and shook, trying to toss Sam. It was no use. Sam repeatedly dug the knife into it's back until it went down. It squirmed and moaned as it took it's final breaths. Sam was not cold hearted by any means, so he lifted one gigantic paw and gave the black dog one solid stab to the heart. No more sound came from it. Sam looked back to see his father standing stock still, Dean was now at his side. Their faces plastered with a mix of shock, worry, and _pride_. Even his father carried the prideful stare, but Sam was not able to enjoy it for long. His breathing became labored as the adrenaline exited his body and he slumped to the ground beside the creature he had just killed.

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"_Sam!_" His mind reacted before his body could. Sam had just passed out right after seeming perfectly fine not but a moment ago.

"Dean, I'm going to grab Sam and bring him back to the Impala. Burn the body."

Dean took a second to respond to his father. "No, Dad. I'll take him." He insisted. He needed to make sure Sam was going to be fine.

"That's an _order_, son!" His father was already at Sam's side, scooping him up into his arms and making his way East to where the car was parked.

He stood for a second, looking back and forth between his father and the ugly son of a bitch sprawled out on the muddy ground. He let out a sigh and got to work. Quickly salting the body and dousing it in gasoline, Dean flicked a match onto the carcass and set it ablaze. The rain was once again picking up, so he knew the fire wouldn't get out of control. He let it burn as he ran ahead to catch up with his family.

They weren't too deep in the woods, so it only took a few minutes to get back to the car. He made it there just before his father.

"Open the back and grab some blankets!" His dad called when he was almost to the Impala. Dean yanked open the back seat then ran around to the trunk to grab a thick wool blanket for Sam. It was freezing outside and the rain wasn't helping anything except the possible hypothermia Sam could have.

Once his father approached the car, Dean made his way to the back door on the other side so he could help pull Sam in. He laid his limp head on his leg and swaddled him in the blanket. His dad slammed the door shut. Once he was sure Sam was secured in the back, his dad rushed to the nearest hospital. Every town they stayed in, his dad always made sure to map out the nearest hospitals and clinics. He was pretty sure the closest hospital to these woods was St. Catherine's.

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About ten minutes later, the Impala came to a screeching halt in front of the hospital. His dad honked the horn impatiently when two orderlies rushed the vehicle. Dean stroked Sam's chilled face, whispering calming words to his little brother. He couldn't hear what his father was saying to the nurses until suddenly the door was pulled open and hands were carrying his brother away from him. Dean spun around and got out his own door to see them strapping Sam onto a board and wheeling him through the automatic doors. He chased after them, his father hot on his tail.

"_Sir?_ I'm sorry but you can't go back there. It's for hospital personnel only." An older woman in a nurse uniform spoke to his father.

"That's my _son_ back there." He explained.

"Like I _said_… You can't go back there. Please go sit in the waiting area with the rest of the families. You won't get any special treatment by harassing the staff." Her grating voice was getting on Dean's last nerve. If she weren't a woman he'd sock her in her smug face.

Dean was the first to walk away; worried he might make an exception and punch the bitch. His father made a stop at the front desk to fill out some paperwork. It seemed as though they were in the hospital far too much lately… He let his mind wander until he remembered his earlier conversation with Bobby. _Shit! I gotta call Bobby._

He caught his father's eye and held up his phone to let him know he would be out of the room for a minute and waited for his dad to nod. For it being so early in the morning, he was surprised at how crowded it was. He checked his watch to see that it was a little after five. He stepped back outside and breathed in the fresh rainwater scent. It was cleansing and helped him clear his mind. The weight of the phone in his hand reminded him _again_ to call Bobby.

"Where the hell _are_ you, _boy?_ Sam's not picking up his phone and neither have you two bozos. I'm at the motel now." Bobby had answered on the first ring and never even gave Dean the time of day.

"Hello to you too, Bobby…" Dean sucked in a deep breath of air and let it out in a whoosh. "Bobby, Sam's in the hospital. St. Catherine's… He-he killed it, Bobby. He _killed _the black dog _by himself!_ I don't know how injured he is because they won't let us see him yet…"

Dean could hear Bobby silently swear. "I'll be there in a few."

He was about to hang up, when Dean remembered something… something very important. "Bobby!"

"What now ya idjit?"

Dean hesitated for a moment. "Bring me Sam's duffle."

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**Please review… Please! Haha. I really hope y'all liked this chapter because I loved writing it. This story is coming to a close soon, so stay tuned!**


	11. Chapter 11

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"_Dean!_" His father called to him from the doors of the hospital. Dean had called Bobby about two hours ago and he was once again outside getting some fresh air. Dean knew that there must be some news on his little brother so he made a mad dash to where his dad had gone. He was standing in front of a short middle-aged man in a white coat.

"Doctor?" He panted out. The man gave a confused look.

"This is my son Dean." The man nodded.

"I am Dr. Pellago." He extended his hand for Dean to shake.

"How's my brother?" Dean didn't have time for decencies. He needed to know where his brother was and how he was doing. And he needed to know in that instant.

"Sam is lucky to be alive at this point." The doctor was about to go on when Dean interrupted.

"What do you mean _'lucky to be alive'_? He was _fine _before he passed out!" He _was_ fine. Dean had seen him with his own eyes jump onto the black dog and kill it before it got to them. He surely couldn't have done that if he were that severely injured… Could he?

The doctor seemed to have a lot of patience. He'd need it when dealing with the Winchesters. "Well, he came in with severe lacerations along his abdomen which led to internal bleeding. We had to go in and repair the damage. He coded twice on the table before we could even get him stabilized. We had to give him over a pint of blood to try to make up for the blood lost. To go along with it, he received a concussion, a fractured wrist, dislocated shoulder, and a couple of cracked ribs." Dean's vision started to get blurry around the edges. "He's not out of the woods yet. Sam has gotten an infection from the wounds on his side so we have him on antibiotics. He was slightly hypothermic when you got him here, but that is being taken care of. We are getting him settled into a room in ICU. Since he hit his head pretty hard, we're not sure if he will suffer from any permanent damage. And to be honest… There is a chance Sam still might not survive. It is a miracle in itself that he was able to last this long. We are doing everything we possibly can..." Dr. Pellago trailed off.

The quack obviously didn't know Dean's brother. Sam was a fighter. He'd make it… Unless he didn't _want_ to make it… Dean thought back to what Sam had said before about how he'd almost ended it all. What if Sam didn't want to make it out alive? Was going after that black dog himself some sort of kamikaze mission? Did he go in without the intent of leaving? His father speaking tore him from his dark musings.

"With all due respect, Dr. Pellago… You don't know my son. Sammy is tough; he will pull through, just you wait. I'd ask for a second opinion, but I know I won't need one once my boy wakes up. So you can send someone for us when my son is in his room." His father's confidence helped Dean from thinking too darkly. He could almost feel it radiating from him. His father never even waited for a response from the doctor, he just turned and went back to the seat he'd occupied before. Dean kept his head up and followed his father. He refused to think negatively. Dean needed to be strong for his little brother. He would _not_ fall apart.

He and his father hadn't spoken since they made it to the hospital with the exception of him being called inside to talk to the doctor. Dean was itching to talk to his dad. He needed to know what was going on in his head. "Dad?"

"How could he be so _selfish_? So irresponsibly _stupid_?" His father turned his shining eyes over to Dean. He seemed as if he'd aged over the past few hours. His dad seemed so tired and frustrated.

"Selfish?" Dean had remembered how Sam reacted when he'd called him selfish. Remembered what Bobby had said to him and now his dad needed to hear it. "Sam is the farthest thing from selfish, Dad! Don't you understand? He-"

"_Dean! John!_" Bobby's voice carried over the dwindling crowd of people. He stood and greeted his friend with a fierce hug. Dean was never so happy to see Bobby in his life.

"You… Uh. Did you bring…?" Dean didn't exactly want his father to know that he'd asked Bobby to break into their motel room just to grab Sam's duffle. He noticed Bobby wasn't carrying it with him and was disappointed he didn't have it.

Bobby picked up on the fact that he didn't want his dad to know about Sam's bag. He handed him his truck keys and pulled him into another small hug, just long enough to whisper, "It's in the back ya idjit. I'm _old_, not _stupid_." Dean smiled.

"You two probably have a lot to go over… I'm going to take a walk around the block to clear my head. Call my cell with any news, okay?" Dean spoke mostly to his dad. Bobby already knew where he was going.

His father seemed confused. "We're going to be able to go see Sam soon… Why would you go out now?"

Dean stuttered, he couldn't think of any good reason for him to bail out before he could see Sam. Bobby stepped in, seeing his distress. "John, can't you see the boy is shaken up? He just needs a few minutes to get his thoughts together before he can see Sam. Y'all have been through a hell of a lot. Cut 'em some slack. We'll call him when Sam's ready to have visitors." Bobby risked a wink in Dean's direction. "Anyway. I need to know what's going on with Sam and I know he won't want to listen to that again…"

"Guess you're right… Well, the doctor said that…" His father began. Dean used that moment to step out and get to Bobby's truck. He really owed him one, though he knew that Bobby would never hold him to it. Bobby was too good a man to do that, especially to family.

Dean made his way through the early morning light to the rusty old pick up truck. It was easy enough to spot. He slowed his pace as he approached the truck. His stomach was turning in knots. Dean knew what he was about to read and the nerves kicked into high gear. Brushing the chipped, copper colored paint, Dean reached into the bed of the truck and heaved up Sam's duffle bag. He then unlocked the driver's side door and hopped in, dropping Sam's bag on the seat next to him and shutting the door.

Running a hand down his face, he carefully unzipped Sam's bag so slowly someone might have thought he were opening a bomb. The first thing he saw was a plain white shirt, digging deeper he found what he was searching for. _And Then There Were None _by Agatha Christie. That was the book he had bought his brother for his fourteenth birthday. He remembered how much Sam enjoyed reading the book for school, but he was getting picked on for having a ratty second-hand book. So for his birthday, Dean went out and bought him a new edition of it. Sam had been so happy…

He grabbed the book by the binding and turned it so that he could see if anything would fall out. An old, worn piece of paper fell onto his lap. He set the book aside and gently pinched up the note. It was grayed and faded, the edges ripped. The paper was soft and wrinkled, as if folded and unfolded hundreds of times. That worried him, knowing Sam said he'd look at the letter whenever he felt like he might do something to himself. With a deep breath, he gingerly opened the letter and stared at his brother's handwriting. The words were neatly written, unlike his usual scrawl. Dean bit down on his lip and began to read the words his baby brother had written as his last goodbye to him so long ago.

_Dean,_

_ I know that this is going to be hard for you to understand. I wish that… Honestly, I wish I never even existed. I need you to know that I wanted none of this. I never wanted this life, so why do I have to endure it? You and dad will be fine without me around. Actually, I bet you will be better off. Dad never wanted me anyway. You were the son he wanted. I was just some kid who tagged along with you two that he could never get rid of. Well, I'm doing that part for him. I'll get rid of myself. No matter what I do, I will never be good enough for him. I will never be what he wants, so I don't even know why I try. And damn it Dean, I try so hard… I tried so hard. I'm done trying, it doesn't matter anyway… I guess Dad has every right to hate me since it's my fault Mom's dead. If I were never born, none of this would have happened and the three of you would have lived a long and happy life. I know that we never say this… I just want you to know that I love you, Dean. You're the best big brother anyone could ever ask for, and I'm sorry you were saddled with me. I know you're going to end up letting Dad read this… I'm sure he'll hate me even more for doing this. But I just can't take this feeling anymore. This feeling of being worthless… It's tearing me apart from the inside and I'm not strong enough to keep it together anymore. None of this is your fault, Dean. I want you to remember that… And I also want you to remember that this is for the best. _

_I'm sorry,_

_Sam._

Dean wiped furiously at his leaking eyes. He had never known Sam felt that way. Sam had never even shown signs of being depressed! He clutched the letter in his hands and let his head fall against the window releasing choked sobs. His baby brother wanted to kill himself and he's been too_ blind_ to see his pain. Awful images flashed through Dean's head. He could see Sam's lifeless body lying broken in the tub of some shitty motel bathroom soaked in blood, the gun still in his limp hand. He could see himself working feverishly to revive his brother, reaching for the note he had in his hands and seeing it splattered with blood.

He shook his head, banishing the images from his mind. He vowed at that moment, that he would never let Sam feel the way he did when he wrote that letter. No matter what Sam said, he knew it was his fault… Maybe not _all_ his fault, but he was to blame nonetheless. Dean read and reread the note, memorizing each word. The sudden shrill ring from his cell made him flinch.

"Y-yeah?" His voice thick.

"Sam's in his room, they're bringing us there now." Bobby stated. Dean slammed the phone shut and shoved the paper into his pocket.

"I'm coming, Sammy."

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The nurse was waiting with his dad and Bobby. Dean joined the group and kept his head down. His father didn't notice, but Bobby placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder as they stepped into the elevator that would bring them to Sam.

"Now, I would just like to let you know that he does have oxygen to help his breathing. He had to be intubated earlier, but he just recently started breathing on his own. That is a good sign. Also, be careful of his left arm and his right side. If you need anything, don't hesitate to press the call button. Since he's in ICU, there is only supposed to be one person in at a time. The doctor thinks that it might be good for Sam to have all of you around, so he made a special exception for you." She smiled and went on her way.

Dean didn't even hesitate. The second the nurse walked away, Dean was inside, sitting next to Sam. He didn't even care that the other two men saw him pull Sam's hand into his own. "Sammy? Sam, you have to wake up now little brother. I need you… And I found what you told Bobby about… in the book I got you." Tears pricked behind his eyes and he didn't bother stopping them from falling. "Please, Sammy. _Please._ You saved us, and a lot of other people too. You were reckless and I never want you to put yourself in danger like that again…" He lightly scolded. "But I need you to wake up so I can… So I can tell you how proud I am of you."

An indignant snort sounded from the doorway. Dean turned to see his father's dark eyes watching his two sons. "_Proud?_"

"Yes, proud. He saved both our asses." Dean scowled.

"Proud for almost getting himself killed to prove a point? You're proud of him for being a selfish, reckless _child?_" His father raised his eyebrows, challenging him.

Dean stood. "Yes I am! Damn it. Can he ever do anything right by you? Why is everything he does wrong? Do you even hear yourself when you're talking?"

His dad stood up straighter. "Don't take that tone with me Dean Winchester."

Dean ground his teeth together. "Now everybody needs to calm down before we get our fool asses kicked out of here. We are here for _Sam_." Bobby was yet again the voice of reason between the Winchesters. Each stood down from their defensive posture but the fire never left their eyes. "John, maybe you should go cool off. I'll come get ya if there's anything new." Bobby practically shoved his dad toward the door.

"Here." Dean reached into his pocket and handed his father Sam's note. He knew it was meant for him, but also knew his father needed to read it. He felt justified in the fact that in the letter, Sam said that he knew he'd let his dad read it.

His father huffed. "What's this?" He held the paper in his hand.

"Read it and then come back after you think about some shit. Just so you know, it's almost two years old." Dean turned away from him and kept his attention on his little brother. He could hear his father's footsteps dissolve down the hall and he let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

"What was that?" Bobby's gentle voice calmed him a fraction.

"A suicide note Sam wrote a while back… He wanted me to read it just incase he didn't survive the hunt." _And there's still a chance he might not survive…_ Dean added to himself. "I'm hoping it'll knock some sense into that hard head of his."

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Damn, Dean was getting on his nerves. He'd have a good mind to give the boy a nice whack upside his head. John knew he was being hard on Sam, but that was only because he loved him. He always wanted Sam to be able to protect himself, but what he did was _beyond_ reckless. If he didn't know better, he'd say Sam was trying to go and get his dumb ass killed. Sure he protected himself and Dean, but at what cost? He'd taught him better than that.

John looked at the withered paper his son had handed him. He'd walked down to the small cafeteria to grab a cup of coffee, so he might as well see what was inside this note. The first thing he noticed was that the letter was addressed to Dean. So why did he give it to him then? He could also make out that it was in Sam's handwriting, though it was not as messily written. John began reading the note.

Though usually, John might have gotten angry with Sam for trying to do something so stupid… Once he was finished reading, John Winchester, hardened hunter that he was… _cried_. He damn near bawled at the words his youngest son had written. The thought of not having his baby boy with him was beyond words.

Dean's words rang in his head, "Just so you know, it's almost two years old." He never knew how much he'd neglected his son… John _never_ wanted Sam to feel worthless or unwanted. He just wanted Sam to be able to protect himself when _he_ wasn't able to protect him. His own son wanted to _kill_ himself because he thought he wasn't _wanted_ by his _father_… What had he done?

Well, John wasn't going to let this happen. He would let his son know when he'd done well and treat him like any _decent_ father would. Mary would be so disappointed that he'd let their son down. How he'd let himself get this way, he'll never know. He needed to have a serious talk with Sam about some of the most worrying things he'd read. Especially about how he blamed himself for Mary's death… It _wasn't_ his fault; he shouldn't be carrying that guilt around with him.

Most importantly of all… John had to let Sam know that he _wanted_ him. He and Mary always wanted to have another child and Sammy was more than he could ask for. Sure they were always at each other's throats, but he would never give him up. Not for _anything. _

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**I hope everyone liked this chapter. It was so difficult for me to write! Please review.**


	12. Chapter 12

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"A _suicide_ note? Care to fill me in on what that's all about, son?"

"It was from two years ago, Bobby. See, remember when I was talking to you outside the motel room?" Bobby nodded so he continued. "Well, I went back in after we spoke to try to talk to Sam. He was cleaning the guns and this weird look crossed his face…"

"What look?"

Dean thought back. "It was strange… almost tragic. I can't describe it, Bobby."

"That's fine, what happened after that?" He encouraged.

Sighing, Dean continued. "I thought he was going to shoot himself with the gun, so I charged him and pulled him outside to talk to him… He acted like he didn't know why I was so freaked out. I could have sworn he tilted that damned gun in his direction. I called him out on it and he said that he wasn't gonna do anything. I told him that he shouldn't even be _thinking_ about it…" Dean's breathing came faster. Remembering everything and looking at it through fresh eyes was agonizing. "He said… He…"

Bobby placed a hand on his shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. "Dean, it's okay. You don't have to go over this again."

"No, Bobby. It's fine… You're family, you need to know what happened. His exact words were, _'Have you never thought about it?'_ He basically told me that he'd thought about it more than once…"

"What about the pills… Did he try to-"

"_No._ He said he was telling the truth that it was an accident and I believe him." Dean placed his head in his hands. "But he _did_ tell me about the one time he almost ended it all. He was serious about it… That's where the note came from. He'd written a suicide note to me, went into the bathroom and held a gun to his head." He massaged his temples. "The only reason he didn't do it was because of a fluke. It was slow in the shop so my boss let me off early; Sam had been in the bathroom and was about to pull the trigger when I came in. He said that he couldn't do it when I was there so he hid the note and acted as if nothing was wrong. He also said that he'd been feeling depressed since he was fucking eleven years old. _Eleven!_ He'd been feeling like shit for six years and I hadn't even noticed… What a shitty excuse for a brother I am." Dean sank further in his chair, wallowing in self-loathing.

"Dean." Bobby waited for Dean to lift his head and meet his gaze. "You are the best brother I've ever seen. Sam is lucky as hell to have you around, so don't go kickin' yourself. You know that kid loves you more than anything. That's why he wasn't able to do the deed when you came home. Sam is stubborn as a mule and if he gets an idea in his head, it's hard to just let go of it. He needs our help to get him through it… And I know with you as a big brother, he's gonna have a better chance at makin' a physical _and_ emotional recovery than damn near anyone. So chin up, son."

"But, Bobby…" Dean started.

"Don't talk back to your Uncle Bobby, son." Dean looked above Bobby's shoulder to see his father leaning heavily against the doorframe. "He knows what he's talking about."

Dean bit his lip, wondering how much of the conversation his father had heard. "How much did you hear?"

His dad smiled sadly. "Enough." He slowly made his way to where Sam was laying. He softly pushed the wayward bangs from Sam's eyes and looked up, tears had formed in his hazel eyes. "I-" he cleared his throat, "I read the… Um. I read_ this_." His father held up Sam's letter and placed it down on the table beside Sam's bed. Dean and Bobby remained quiet. "How… How long has he… Did you know?"

The heart rate monitor spiked. "_Sam?_" Dean rose from his seat and placed a hand on Sam's sweaty forehead. The heat radiating from him was almost too uncomfortable for his hand to touch. Dean frantically pressed the call button. "Sammy, can you hear me?"

"What's going on?" A woman's voice entered the room, but Dean's eyes were glued on his baby brother.

"I-I don't know! We were just in here talking and then all the sudden the heart thing went off… He's burning up!" Dean explained before being forced away.

"Samuel? Samuel can you hear me?" The lady spoke in a tense voice. All of the sudden, Sam's eyes flew open and he began gagging.

"_Sammy!_" Dean pressed forward.

"De." Tears trailed down his brother's cheeks as he struggled to stop his coughing fit.

Sam was reaching out, searching. Dean ignored the protests coming from the nurse and clutched his brothers flailing hands. "I'm right here, Sammy." He calmed him down enough that the coughing had all but ceased. His breathing was still heavy and ragged, but steady. Dean silently cursed as Sam once again slipped into unconsciousness. "What the hell was_ that_ about?" Dean turned his questioning glare on the nurse who was now writing something down on her notepad.

"He _did_ have a tube inserted in his throat earlier, it's probably just irritated." She walked up to him and placed thermometer in Sam's ear. "He's running a fever of 105.3… _Damn_." She rushed into the hall and came back shortly with a larger man and their doctor. "Temp's one-oh-five, we need to move him into an ice bath immediately to cool him." Dean didn't even have a chance to ask anything else. His brother was swiftly wheeled away, leaving the three men alone.

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Was he in hell? It sure felt like he was in hell… He felt as if he were burning alive. Sam felt himself being moved and hands were touching him. _Demons!_ Sam started fighting them off. He wouldn't let them take him; he wouldn't let himself become one of them.

"He's not lucid. Annie, we need to sedate him." A voice that sounded far away spoke. _Not lucid?_ _Maybe I'm not in hell… But if I'm not here, where am I?_ Sam stopped fighting and slowly parted his lids. The first thing he registered was bright white light, then other forms came into view.

"_Wait_, he's coming to." Another voice said. "Samuel?" How did they know my name?

"_Mmm?_" Sam mumbled.

"Samuel, we're here to help you. You're in the hospital." _Well if I'm in the hospital, why do I feel like my flesh is sizzling off? _ "You have a very high fever, we are going to place you in this ice bath." Sam let his gaze lazily follow the doctor's finger that pointed to a tub on the floor. He then realized he was clad in only boxers. Well, if that was going to help the burning, he'd let them do anything they wanted. Sam nodded and then was lifted up.

He was placed on two unsteady feet, the floor made slippery from his sweat. The nurse lifted one of his legs and placed it in the chilled water. Sam tried to help with the other leg as they lowered his body down into the water. He vaguely felt a sharp twinge in his side, but it paled in comparison to the overall heat of his body. The second he was submerged to his neck in the frigid water, he began to shake violently. The water that sloshed around his face and body created a white-hot pain and it was felt throughout his entire frame. Every part of him that was exposed was blotted down with a cool cloth by one of the nurses. Sam scrunched his eyes shut in pain, repressing a moan that threatened to escape his lips.

Sam couldn't be sure how long he was in the bath. It could have been minutes or hours, but finally he was pulled out. His teeth chattered and his body was racked with tremors. His eyes danced around the room, not focusing on any one thing.

"Here." A male voice caught Sam's attention. He was standing beside a hospital bed and gestured for the other man who was holding Sam upright to put him there.

Sam only had one thing on his mind. "Wh're's De?" His sluggish tongue slurred the words out. He was surprised the doctor knew what he'd said.

"Your brother is waiting in your room along with your father and uncle." He explained as he began wheeling Sam out of the small room and down the hall. He was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to sleep, but he kept himself awake. Sam had to apologize for how dumb he was to go after that damn black dog by himself. The most troubling thing was the fact that his father was there. He thought that his dad wouldn't want to see him again… Sam remembered seeing his face when he'd killed the beast… How long ago was that? How long had he been in the hospital for? He had so many questions, but he forgot everything when he was brought into his room and was surrounded by a trio of tired, worn hunters.

The first face Sam singled out was his brother's. "Dean." He could see the relief melt away the worry lines as he lit up in a dazzling smile.

"Oh thank God, _Sammy._" Dean waited a moment for the bed to be wheeled in place and for Sam to be hooked up to all the monitors.

"Sam's temperature is still high, but it's not as dangerous as before. We'll give you a minute to talk, but then we'll need to get in and clean Sam's wounds to prevent any further infection." Dr. Pellago began. "I've never seen such a rapid recovery in my days as a doctor… You are a very special young man." He nodded to the others in the room and then exited.

Sam kept his eyes downcast, avoiding his father's gaze. "Sam." Dean's voice was now right beside him. He glanced up to see Dean watching him concernedly.

Sam had so much to say, so he just let the dam spill over. "Dean, I am so sorry. I can't even tell you how sorry I am. I just wanted to prove I was good enough. That I could take on one fuckin' black dog by myself… That I wasn't worthless. _Bobby?_" Sam turned so he could see him. "Bobby, I should have listened to you. I hope you can forgive me for going against what you told me." Sam took a fleeting look at his father then leveled his gaze at his hands that were nervously twitching.

"Sam?" His father spoke in a soft voice that was so out of character; it forced Sam to look up. "What you did… It was _reckless_, and _foolish_." Sam bit his lip but he kept his eyes focused on his dad. "But it was also brave. And I'm _damn proud_ of you." He slowly came towards Sam and placed a hand lovingly on the side of his face. Sam unconsciously leaned into the touch. "I… Well, Dean found this." Sam regarded the small, folded piece of paper his father held out in his palm.

_No… It couldn't be-_ "Is that…?" Sam trailed off. He remembered telling Bobby to let Dean know where it was, but he didn't think they'd already have it.

"We need to talk about some things…" Just then, Sam's saving grace entered the room.

"Sir, I'm sorry but I need to tend to Sam's injuries. Could you all please step out for just a moment? I won't be too long." She seemed very pleasant.

"Okay." His father responded and left the room with Bobby right behind him. Dean was the last to leave.

"I'll be right back, Sam." He promised then shut the door behind him.

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The nurse had finished cleaning his wounds and started to leave. "I'll let your family know they can come back in." She smiled warmly and walked out of the room.

Sam wasn't alone for long. About a minute later, the door creaked open. He looked up expecting Dean and was slightly taken aback when his father walked shyly into the room. "I asked them if I could have a few minutes to talk with you… alone." His dad began as he pulled a chair over and took a seat next to Sam. Something on Sam's face must have made his father worried, because he continued by saying, "If that's okay with you…?"

"Y-yeah…?" It sounded like a question.

His father laughed once. "Should've seen Dean's face when I told him I wanted to talk to you without him. He was about to have a fit that he couldn't come rushing back in here." Sam smiled, he could only imagine. "I really need to have a talk with you about some things. Some _important_ things…" He once again held up the paper from before.

"That was from a long time ago, Dad." Sam's voice came out thick.

"From what I heard, this was only two years ago… And Dean said you'd been feeling this way since you were younger." His father corrected. Sam remained silent. "Well, I'm just going to start talking and you can cut in whenever you feel like you want to." Sam slowly nodded his head.

His father rubbed a hand through day old stubble and started. "Sam… Dean and I would _not_ be better off without you. We need you in our lives. _ I_ need you. So don't you ever think I never wanted you, because the day you were born was one of the happiest days of my life. I don't have many… The first was the day I met your mother. The second was when I married her. The third was when we had Dean. And the last was when we had you. If you were successful in your attempt, you'd kill a part of your brother and me with you. I never wanted to get rid of you. I… Sometimes I just don't _think_ before I say things. When we had that fight and I punched you…" He trailed off and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"It's okay, Dad. I deserved it." Sam tried to soothe his father.

"_No_ it's not okay, Sam! I was wrong for doing that to you. I was wrong for kicking you out. I regretted doing it the second I said it. But being the stubborn ass that I am, I didn't want to back down. I'd hoped you would come back… or hell, not even have left in the first place. You and I are so much alike. I know you don't see that now." He sighed heavily. "You also have to understand that you are not at fault for your mother's death. The yellow eyed demon is responsible."

Sam sighed. "Dad… She was protecting me. If I-"

"Sam, no. It was not your fault. I wouldn't lie to you about that. And I promise we'll get the thing that_ is_ at fault." His father held his gaze until Sam finally nodded. "I _love_ you, Sammy. Everything I do is because I love you boys… I guess I'm too hard on you. It's just because I worry about you more. You're my baby boy… And the mere thought of losing you to _yourself_ is maddening." His dad raised his tear filled eyes to Sam, waiting for him to say something.

"I don't know what to say, Dad. I really don't." Sam felt horrible for making his dad feel this way.

His father balled up the note in his hands and tossed it in the trashcan. "You don't need to keep this with you… Dean told me outside that you kept it to remind yourself of why you were still here. From this point forward, if you feel like you are on the edge, you come to me. I'll _always_ be here for you, Sammy. I always have been."

Tears fell down Sam's face. His father was finally letting down his wall and Sam was getting a glimpse of how he must have been before what happened all those years ago. What he saw before him was a caring father, not the cold, military sergeant. His dad stood and wrapped his arms around Sam, careful of the IV and other monitors. "I'm so sorry…"

His dad let go and held a finger under Sam's chin until he met his gaze. "Don't be."

"_Ahem_." Dean loudly cleared his throat. He and Bobby were standing in the door. "Can we come in now?"

"Yeah, we're good. Right, Sammy?" His father responded.

"We're good." Sam smiled back at his father. For the first time in so very long, Sam really believed that they were indeed _good_.

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**This story is coming to a close! I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter… There should be only one more chapter after this, so stay tuned! Please review.**


	13. Chapter 13

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"Well, let's get outta here then. There's a hunt in Florida I picked up on." His father grinned down at Sam and ruffled his hair. Maybe he spoke too soon… His dad's mind went straight back to the hunt, as always. Sam smiled shyly up at his father through a fringe of chocolate bangs.

"John?" Bobby spoke up first, clearly uncomfortable. "Don't you think Sam needs a little time to recover? He's been through a lot…"

"Yeah, Dad." Dean agreed.

His father looked at them with a strange half smirk on his face. "Sammy's _fine_. Even the doc said he is rapidly recovering and his temperature isn't dangerous. He's tough, and he'll get plenty of rest on the ride there. I'll even make a few stops along the way." His dad turned his attention back to Sam. "You'll do fine kiddo. _Right?_"

Sam looked to his brother and back to his dad. He looked so excited about the prospect of another hunt and getting out of this hospital… Sam didn't want to disappoint him. "Uh, y-yeah. Sure."

"That's great, I'll go get the doctor to have him give you a once over and then we can get on the road. I'm sure you're tired of being in here. I don't know how long we will be there, but if we're still there after winter break I'll enroll you in school. I know how much you've missed being in school." At least his father seemed like he was still trying. It works both ways though… Sam didn't want to tell his dad he needed to stay in the hospital longer since he didn't want to seem weak. They were falling back into the same routine and it was both of their faults. Sam prayed the doctor would say that he needed to recover for a few more days. From Dean's worried glare, Sam knew that he knew Sam was lying

His dad made his way to the door only to be stopped by Dean. "Dad?" His father halted. "I _really_ don't think this is a good idea. I think Sam needs to stay in the hospital…"

"Dean, Sam and I had a long talk about some things. He said that he'd come to me if he needs help." His father stated as if reiterating something obvious to a small child. "I'll be right back." He left the room.

"_Sam._" Dean and Bobby said in unison.

Bobby nodded for Dean to speak first. "I know you're lying. I can tell you're still in pain and I know you're not well enough to be going on a damn hunt. So cut the bull and tell me what's really going on."

Sam looked to Bobby. "What he said."

Sam sighed inwardly and decided it wasn't worth having Dean upset with him. "I… I guess I could use a few more days here. I just didn't want to tell Dad. He was so excited about the hunt and getting out of here, I just didn't want to be a burden."

"But, Sam. Dad said that you'd come to him if you needed his help, right?" Sam bit his lip and looked away. "So why did you lie to him and say that you'd be able to handle leaving?"

"It's gonna take some time, Dean! I'm not just going to be able to run off to Dad every time I have a problem… I know he's trying, but… I just don't know. I definitely felt better after we talked but then he goes and says that he wants to go off on another hunt like normal. I guess I'm afraid I can't trust him to change completely until I see it for myself."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Yeah, but you lying to him isn't giving him the opportunity to show you what he'll do. For example, I know for a _fact_ you are not ready to leave this hospital…" Dean raised one eyebrow, challenging Sam to say differently. "So when the doctor comes in and tells Dad that, you agree with the doc. Say that you think maybe you'll need some more time and then you'll get your proof." That was actually a pretty good idea, so Sam decided he'd test it.

"I'm not sure if that's a good-" Dr. Pellago entered the room. "Hello, Samuel. It's nice to see you up. How are you feeling?" He asked as he began to prod the healing injuries on his side.

"I'm feeling better." Sam answered immediately. Dean shot him a look, so Sam added, "Still sore though…"

"I can imagine. You went through a hellish ordeal, son. From what your father told me, it was a bear attack in the woods! I didn't even know there were any bears out this time of year." There weren't… "I'm not much of a camper myself, so I don't know these things. Let me check your breathing and temperature real fast." The doctor listened to his lungs and then took his temperature from an ear thermometer. "Hmmm."

"What?" Dean questioned.

"Well, he's still running a temperature. It's at one-oh-one point five… It's significantly lower than before, but it's still not where we want to be. Your lungs sound a little congested from the hypothermia, but I don't think that will be a problem. It will go away with time… and _rest_. Also I'd like to apologize. We had a new nurse x-ray Sam's wrist and she seemed to have made a mistake. It is just a sprain which she _somehow_ mistook for a fracture…" The doctor placed a hand on his head in frustration. "We can get that cast off now, you shouldn't need it."

His father, who was standing to the side finally interjected. "So he's a lot better then? He should be able to leave now, right?"

The doctor seemed to mull it over in his head and peered down at Sam with scrutinizing eyes. "Mr. Winchester, I'd _highly_ recommend you reconsider leaving." Sam exhaled a sigh of relief. "His wounds still need to be tended to and he still has healing to do on his ribs."

His father was beginning to get irritated now. He could tell by the look in his eye. "We're heading to Florida and we need to leave soon. I can treat his injuries on the way there."

"Sir, I _strongly_ oppose your decision. Sam needs to be _here_." The doctor countered.

"_Sam._ Tell him what you told me. You said you'd be fine to leave." His father turned his hard gaze on him. Sam opened and shut his mouth a few times, unable to answer.

"_Samuel_, do you think you're well enough to leave the hospital? I need you to tell me so I can _help_ you…" The doctor's face was the picture of concern.

Sam could feel his heart beating rapidly in his chest, the blood rushing through his ears. His breathing became labored as he tried to answer. "_Sammy?_" Dean was at his side in an instant. "It's okay. Slow your breathing down. Come on." Sam listened to his brother, trying to keep himself under control. The heart rate monitor was peeling ahead. "Just listen to my voice. Don't think about anything else." Dean grabbed Sam's hand and placed it on his chest, right where his heart was. Sam could feel the rhythm of his heart beating beneath his palm. "Try to keep pace with me. _Okay?_" Sam shut his eyes and concentrated. Slowly but surely the beeping of the monitor declined and his breathing was mostly under control.

Without warning, Sam's energy gave out on him. He felt totally drained and he let himself lie limp in the hospital bed. His eyes drew closed as he rested. Whatever that was took a lot out of him. The last thing he registered before he fell into a blissful sleep was, "_Small-scale panic attack._"

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Sam awoke to the sound of muffled voices. The room was dark and quiet. He tried to roll over but found that there was something keeping him from turning. Sam sat up carefully, feeling the pull in his side and looked over his shoulder. Dean was curled up on the other side of the bed facing the other wall fast asleep. Sam knew that he probably hadn't slept in a long while, so he laid his head back down and stared at the opposite wall.

Sam heard the door creak open and a stream of light passed into the room. He tensed, waiting for whoever it was to say something. The door was never shut, so he could hear the voices more clearly.

"Yeah, they're still sleepin'." He could hear Bobby's hushed voice speak to someone else.

"Well, they can sleep for a few more hours…" That voice was unmistakably his father's. "I'm signing Sam out AMA in the morning. I guess you can send Caleb on the Florida job since he's already in the area… I found another hunt anyway."

"John, think about it. If you have to sign Sam out _against medical advice_, shouldn't that tell ya something?"

"_Yeah_. That doctor is a dumb ass! He said that he didn't think Sam would make it through the night, and here he is!"

There was silence for a minute. "You haven't changed a bit, _have_ you…?" It was a rhetorical question, but his father answered anyway.

"What are you talking about? Sam said he'd be fine to leave."

"He was _lying!_" _Damn it._ "He didn't want you to be disappointed in him for not being strong enough to go."

"Sam said that he'd tell me if he needed me…"

"Do you think that's just gonna happen overnight? You that _dense?_ I see both of you at fault here. Sam shouldn't have lied to you. I'm not defending him on that. You should have been able to see that he was lying though. Even if you couldn't, you should know that he wouldn't be in any condition to go on another hunt! The second you find out that he's on the mend, you wanna yank him out of the place that's helping him and throw him into another hunt."

"Don't tell me how to raise my kid, _Singer._ I know my boy and I know he'll be able to handle it. And you know what? I know of the perfect hunt. There's a simple salt 'n burn off 276th street outside Parker."

"Parker, _South Dakota?_" Disbelief laid think in Bobby's voice.

"Yeah. Apparently some kids were playing a joke and it turned nasty. They killed some girl and buried her off in some field by the road. Said to make drivers veer off the road so that she can get their help."

"That's right near my place. I'll take care of it."

"No. _We_ will. Then afterwards we can all stay at your place to rest up." He didn't hear anything else except footsteps moving away from the door. Sam assumed Bobby had gotten fed up with his dad and left.

The door was pushed open further and then shut silently. He could hear his dad creep into the room and take a seat in the chair sitting in the corner of the room and let out a deep sigh. Sam squeezed his eyes shut and willed himself to fall back to sleep. After about half an hour of trying to keep his breathing even and not moving much, Sam was finally lulled back to sleep by the light snoring coming from his brother and now his father too.

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**I've decided I am going to keep this story going thanks to a few people. :) You know who you are! I hope that everyone enjoys! I've also decided that I'm going to try to stop writing how many chapters I think I'll have left. I am just going to let the story go as long as it needs to. Please review!**


	14. Chapter 14

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"_Dean?_" Sam could feel his brother's back against his shift slightly. "Dean, get up. We're leaving."

"Huh?" Sam could imagine his sleep-glazed eyes staring at their father. It was still dark out, so it must be early in the morning.

An irritated exhale sounded from somewhere behind him. He assumed it came from his dad. "I said we're leaving. _Now._ So get up."

"Dad, it's like… Ugh, God… It's _four-thirty _damn it!" Dean whined.

"_Exactly. _We need to get outta here! The doc is suspicious that I'm tryin' to get Sammy out AMA and now he's sending CPS on my ass. We have to leave and soon! So drag your groggy ass out of bed!" His father kept his voice to a strained whisper. He could tell it took a lot of self-restraint for his father to keep himself from pulling Dean out of the bed.

"_Shit._ CPS? Where's Bobby at?"

"Don't bother with silly questions, son." It suddenly got eerily quiet. Footfalls echoed from down the hall and halted at their door. Each Winchester held his breath when the knob jiggled and then creaked open.

"You idjits _tryin'_ to get caught? Come on! I saw CPS goin' to the elevators. I told 'em the elevators were on the fritz and they'd have to take the stairs. Should buy us a few minutes." Bobby's voice instantly calmed the trio, but only for a moment. Dean was out of the bed in an instant.

"Dean, I need you to come with me to try and distract the social workers. Bobby-" Sam heard an exchange of some sort. "Help Sam get dressed and meet us around back by the Impala. We'll circle around and drop you off at your truck once the coast is clear. I'm sure they know what our car looks like. Got it?" His dad ordered.

"Yeah, yeah. Go, we'll be there." Bobby dismissed them. Sam heard a pair of footsteps creeping out of the room and then a soft sigh. "Poor boy. Damn it, John…" Another sigh and then he felt Bobby's hand on his shoulder, gently rolling him onto his back. Sam kept his eyes shut. He didn't want anyone to know that he'd been awake the entire time. "Sammy? Wake up, son."

Sam blinked his eyes open and tried to look sleepy. "B'bby?" he laced his voice with sleep. Sam was still tired, so it wasn't too much trouble.

Bobby smiled, but it did not touch his eyes. "Hey. Listen, we have to leave now. You're daddy tried to get you out of here so the hospital called CPS."

Of course they'd call Child Protective Services on him. Sam had almost died and now he wanted to take his son out of the hospital? Sam would have called CPS on him too… "So I'm guessing AMA didn't work out so well…" Sam already knew it didn't, but he had to play dumb.

Bobby rolled his eyes. "It's against medical advice, so I guess you could say that didn't go over too well with the doctor. I'll explain more once we're out. Your dad gave me some of your clothes, so I'm gonna have to help you get them on…"

Sam flushed. It was embarrassing having to need someone to help you get dressed, but it would've been _worse_ if it were his father. Sam nodded his head and Bobby began unhooking him from the machines. He let down the guardrail and pulled the covers off. "Okay. Ready?" He held out his hand to help Sam from the bed. He made a noise of agreement and gingerly got off the bed. His head was swimming while Bobby helped him out of his hospital gown. "Arms." Bobby said and Sam carefully lifted his arms as far above his head as he could without ripping his stitches. Bobby pulled the shirt over his head. "Legs…" He waited. Sam braces himself on Bobby's back as he slipped on a pair of jeans over the boxers he had thankfully already been wearing. Bobby set him down on the bed again with his legs dangling off. Sam buttoned his jeans as Bobby put on some shoes and grabbed the jacket Sam had been wearing before.

"Bobby, that's your jacket. Keep it." Sam said as Bobby held the jacket toward him.

"Nope, it's yours." Bobby smiled and helped Sam pull it on. "Now, we need to get out of here. Can you walk alright?" He eyed him concernedly.

Sam thought about that for a minute. "I might need a little help…" He admitted, a bit ashamed.

"That's fine. I wasn't expecting you to hop outta bed and do a _jig._" Bobby joked and then helped Sam out of the bed once again. This time, he pulled him close and wrapped an arm around his waist. Sam leaned into him and stumbled a step forward. "Don't get yourself worked up. One step at a time."

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With Bobby's help, it took them a little less than ten minutes to reach the lobby. Bobby reached up and took his cap off and placed it on Sam's head. He took that as a cue to keep his head down. The automatic doors slid open and arctic air blew through it, chilling Sam to the bone. He shivered and Bobby placed Sam a bit behind him so that he'd block the wind some. A few minutes later, they finally made it to the Impala. There was a fresh layer of snow on the ground, but it wasn't snowing right then. His dad was on the driver's side, slamming his palm against the wheel with such force small chunks of snow fell from the roof of the car. Dean was sitting in the passenger seat staring anxiously out the window.

Bobby opened the back door and Sam could see Dean jump in his seat. "_Sammy!_ You alright? I was about to go looking for you two!" The relief was clear in his voice.

"I'm good." He lied. His side was burning and he was sweating from exertion. Bobby sat him in the back seat and shut the door, racing to the other side. Dean could see right through his façade, and as always he called him out on it.

"No, you're not. It's freezing out and you're sweating like a turkey on Thanksgiving!"

"Not now, Dean." Bobby chastised, then he spoke to his dad. "We're in. _Drive._" And with that, his father peeled out of the parking lot and down the road.

"_Hey? _ Did you nab those pain meds for your brother?" Bobby asked Dean while keeping his eyes glued on Sam.

"Yeah. Sam need 'em now?" Dean turned in his seat and held out two funny colored pills. His dad reached down and held a small bottle of water behind his head.

Sam grabbed the items appreciatively and swallowed the two pills at once followed by a large gulp of ice-cold water. Within minutes he could feel the medicine taking effect. The pain in his side decreased drastically and he struggled to keep his lids from closing. He could feel his head lull to the side and onto Bobby's shoulder and then he was out.

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The first thing Sam established upon waking was that he was not in the same position he had fallen asleep in. The second thing was that Bobby was no longer in the car. His head rested on a jean-clad thigh and he was laying awkwardly in the backseat. Sam knew that it was his brother who was in the back with him. Whenever Sam was hurt and they were in the car, Dean would always pull Sam onto his lap. Now with him being older and much larger, his head rested in his lap instead. Sam could hear his brother humming smoke on the water. Dean had always said that it calmed him. Dean was also nervously running his hand through Sam's hair like he was absently stroking a cat. Sam huffed out an irritated sigh.

"_Sammy?_" Dean abruptly stopped his movements. "Hey, you're awake. How did ya sleep, princess?" He joked.

"Just fine. Would've slept better if you weren't petting my head constantly, Jerk." Sam made a move to sit upright, which Dean helped him with. He leaned against the door and faced his body toward Dean.

"Whatever, Bitch. If your hair wasn't so long, I wouldn't have mistaken it for an animal." Dean seemed embarrassed, but covered it with his teasing.

"I wouldn't go down that road. At least my hair doesn't look like a porcupine!" Sam shot back.

"Come on, Samantha. You know my hair looks awesome."

"_You_ think so."

"Yeah, I do! And you know wha-"

"Stop your bickering! I'm tryin' to concentrate on the road." His father cut in before they could go overboard.

Dean mouthed the word _'bitch'_ so Sam just shot him the bird. He mocked being hurt to which Sam just rolled his eyes. "Uh, Dad? Where are we going?" Sam knew exactly where they were going, but he again played dumb. He remembered his father saying something about a hunt in South Dakota.

"There's a hunt near Bobby's place. Should be a simple salt 'n burn. I thought that we'd start with something simple to ease you back into hunting after your injury. Also, since it's near Bobby's we can stay there for a while and you can rest up." As if reading his mind, he continued. "Bobby is following us. But Sam?" Sam looked into the rearview mirror and saw his father shoot what looked like a concerned glance back at him before returning his eyes to the road. "If you… If you need to stop, just tell me. I'll find us a motel we can hole up in for the night."

"Okay." Sam wasn't sure if that would actually happen, but he'd test it later. He was fine for right now. "How far out are we?" He asked Dean who had gone back to humming.

He raised his eyebrows in acknowledgement. "Been driving for 'bout three hours?" He checked his watch. "Yup, three." Sam pursed his lips and did the math in his head. He'd been out for three hours, and it took them a little less than twenty hours to get to Maryland from Bobby's place. With the snow, they wouldn't be going too fast. He figured they'd make it to Bobby's in about twenty-two hours. Since he slept through three, that meant he had nineteen hours left. He thought he could deal with that.

Eye of the Tiger came on the radio just then. "_Oh!_ Dad, turn it up!" His father reached forward and turned the volume higher.

"It's the, _eye of the tiger_ it's the cream of the fight. Risin' _up_ to the challenge of our _rivals_. And the _last_ known survivor-" Sam tuned out Dean's off key singing and air guitar, and resigned himself to stare out the window at the flurries of snow whipping past. This was going to be a _long_ ride…

=================SPN==================

It was about six o'clock in the evening. They had been driving for another ten hours and only stopped to use the bathroom and fill up the tank once. Sam was starting to get muscle spasms from being cramped up in the backseat for so long. The ride hadn't been as quiet as he'd hoped. Dean's horrible singing filled the small space with almost every song until finally his dad had had enough and told him to stop. His father of course didn't hear, but Dean continued to hum the lyrics.

Sam couldn't take this much longer. He was starting to get carsick after just leaving the hospital and his head was pounding. His side felt like it was on fire and his ribs ached. Sam clenched one hand into a fist and kept the other securely grasping the leather seat. He needed to stop for the night.

"Dad?" He asked apprehensively.

His father yawned loudly. "Yeah?" That was good. His dad was tired, so maybe he'd want to stop too.

"Um… Do you think we could stop?" He bit down on his lip, waiting for his dad's response. Sam watched a sign that went by that signaled they had just gone through Davenport, Iowa.

His father looked uncomfortable. "Well, I think we only have a few more hours until we reach Bobby's… Do you think you can hold on?"

Sam tried not to act disappointed. He knew that the most likely scenario was that his dad was going to try to keep going nonstop. Sam turned and glanced at his brother. He was snoring loudly with his head hung back. He knew he'd never get any sleep with that. He'd just have to deal. "Sure, Dad."

A few hours ended up being _seven_. Around one in the morning, the Impala came to a stop in Bobby's driveway. Sam could see the headlights from Bobby's truck coming up behind them. Sam reached over and squeezed Dean's nose shut. He made a snorting sound and then popped his eyes open.

"We're here." Sam said and shoved his door open.

"Couldn't have asked for a more decent way to wake up…" Dean sarcastically mumbled, but Sam ignored him. He heard Dean's door open and shut then he was suddenly right in front of Sam. "Even though you are acting like the annoying little brother that you are, I'm still gonna help you inside." Sam blinked and tried to think of something witty to fire back with, but he couldn't figure out how to open his eyes again. He was dead tired and he struggled to keep himself aware. "_Whoa_… Sam?" He listed forward and was caught by two strong arms.

"What's goin' on?" He heard his father speak. He was still conscious, but was too tired to even lift his head.

"I don't know… He just passed out." Dean seemed confused.

"He's just tired. Let's get him up to your room and let him sleep." Sam could feel himself being lifted, but he didn't know _who_ was doing the lifting. The last thing he remembered was being placed on a soft bed and his hair being swept from his forehead. Sam fell into a dreamless, pain-free sleep.

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**Sorry for the filler chapter! Haha. I hope you enjoyed it anyway. Please rate! The hunt is coming up in the next chapter or two, so stay tuned! **


	15. Chapter 15

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"How long has he been out?"

"I don't know? Damn it, Dad. Why the hell did you insist on dragging him out of that hospital? _Obviously_ he needed to stay longer!"

"Don't take that tone with me. We _had _to leave and you know that. CPS was on my ass and if we didn't get out, who knows what might have happened!"

"Well maybe if you put your son first, CPS wouldn't have been called…" Sam could hear, whom he presumed was his father stomp out of the room. That meant Dean was still in the room with him. "_Sammy?_ I need you to wake up, man. I have to check out your injuries and boring shit like that…" Sam was too tired to even speak. He wished Dean would just check the wounds while he was sleeping so that he wouldn't have to deal with the pain from it. "Sam?"

Still groggy with sleep, Sam quietly responded. "De." He never opened his eyes or tried to move. His body was sore from lying in one spot for so long, but he knew it would hurt worse if he stretched.

"_Finally._" Dean sighed, exasperated. "I need to clean your side up and give you some pain meds. Can you turn over?"

He bit his lip and began to push down onto the mattress to flip his body so he could lie on his back. The pain knocked the breath out of him. Sam could feel the bed move where his brother moved to his side immediately after his failed attempt of turning.

"You okay? Let me help." Sam didn't have the strength to flip himself over let alone argue with his brother. He could feel Dean's hands, one on his shoulder and one on his leg start to pull. Sam let out a low hiss as he tried to keep himself from screaming out. Finally on his back, he let out a few shaky breaths. "_Shhh._ It's all good. This is gonna hurt…" Dean carefully lifted his shirt.

Sam looked out the window at the darkening sky. It had to be sometime in the evening… but if they'd gotten to Bobby's at one in the morning that meant he slept through the whole day! He didn't have time to think anymore on that as his brother began unwinding the bandages on his abdomen. Sam clamped his teeth together and grabbed hold of the sheets. "Well, it's not infected. The area is a bit swollen though, so I'm going to put on this topical antibiotic stuff." Sam sucked in a deep breath and held it. Dean spread the cool ointment on the healing wound. The only sound that escaped Sam's lips was a light whimper. He did his best to contain himself. After a few minutes, Dean signaled he was done and patched his side up with fresh bandages.

"Dean?" Sam began. He wanted to hear what had gone on while he was passed out, but wasn't sure if Dean would be up for talking about it. He could tell that he and their father were at odds with each other.

"Hmm?" Dean walked to the window and closed the curtains up just as the sun disappeared below the horizon of scrap-metal cars.

Sam fidgeted uncomfortably with his comforter. "Well, what exactly went down after I…?" He didn't want to say _'after I passed out'_. He felt like he should have been strong enough to be able to make it inside by himself. Not being carried by… Who carried him into the house in the first place?

Dean read the discomfort on his face for pain. "I'm going to go grab your pain meds…" Dean started for the door.

"It's not… Is there anything that you and Dad talked about while I wasn't with you?" Sam stared into his eyes, searching for any clue as to if Dean was hiding something.

"_No._" He answered too quickly. Sam just raised one eyebrow and waited for Dean to crumble. He always knew Dean had a hard time keeping things from him. "Well…" He amended. "Bobby and Dad got in a hell of a fight. See, Dad wanted me to come and wake you up so we could go hunt tonight. I said no and he started to go on some tirade about you being strong enough to go and whatnot. Anyways… Bobby heard and he jumped in on my side. They were going at it like you and Dad always do." Dean's eyes seemed far away, in the sense that he was replaying the scene in his head. They suddenly focused back on Sam as he went and sat on his own bed. "I'm actually pretty surprised you didn't wake up! Bobby all but threw Dad out of the house. He said that if he was going to treat his sons like soldiers then he was gonna keep us as sons."

Sam was shocked to say the least. "So, what did you do when he said that?"

"I took Dad's side of course! Don't get me wrong… I love Bobby. He just went over the line with that. So I told him that if he was kicking Dad out of the house, I was leaving too." Dean finished in a matter of fact way.

Sam felt something in the pit of his stomach twisting. He knew what was coming next. "So… Where's Dad now?"

"Waiting in the Impala. We're heading out once I help you get all your stuff." Dean stood and started gathering Sam's duffle bag and medicine.

He didn't want to leave Bobby's house. Sam wanted to stay, and now because of some stupid fight he had to leave. Sam made a split decision in that moment. "I don't want to leave." He squeaked out.

"I don't wanna go either. But it's Bobby or Dad, and I'm choosing our _father._" Just then, he heard steps coming up the stairs.

"He ready to leave yet?" His father's harsh voice was at the door.

Dean set all of their things on his bed. "Yeah. Might need your help getting Sam back down the stairs. His side is still tender." They spoke as if Sam was still sleeping. Like he wasn't right there in the room with them. Just like they used to…

===============SPN=================

Bobby stood at the foot of the stairs. He could see John's back filling the doorway and his booming voice hurrying his boys. Bobby strained to listen to their conversation, feeling only slightly guilty for eavesdropping.

"_What?_" Bobby heard John ask in an indignant tone. He couldn't quite hear who he was responding to. Bobby quietly made his way to the middle of the staircase.

"I-I want to stay here." He heard Sam's small voice answer.

"Dean and I are leaving. You _do_ realize that, right?" There was silence as John waited for his youngest son's response.

"Yes. I do…. But maybe if you talked to him-"

"Damn it, Sam. I'm tryin' to work with you, but you're making it real hard right now, boy. I am telling you that we are leaving right now."

"Are you telling me as my father or my commanding officer?" Bobby's eyes widened at the defiance in Sam's voice.

"_Sam._" Dean warned. Poor kid was always in the middle of fights…

"Do you see what you're doing? You're making the whole situation worse. If you just obeyed a direct order like your brother, we could already be out of here. Now get up." There was movement and then steps coming toward the door. Bobby ran down the steps and stood in the kitchen by the front door.

He saw the Winchester procession coming down the steps. Sam was between the older two. John was trailing them by a few steps. Sam had his hand on Dean's shoulder, supporting himself while struggling down each step.

"_John._" He breathed. Bobby shook his head. "Sam is welcome to stay with me while you two go get that ghost. I know you don't wanna be here but-"

"Sam is _my_ son, not yours. So _my_ sons and I are going to go now." Neither John nor Dean looked at Bobby as they passed him. The only one who did was Sam. There was such anguish on the boys face; Bobby began to take a step forward to comfort the boy when he was met with an irritated John Winchester. "_Goodbye_, Singer." And with that, John packed his boys into the back of the Impala and tore out of the gravel driveway.

Bobby stood in his doorway, watching the Impala fade into the distance. "_Balls._"

==============SPN=================

Sam kept quiet the whole ride to their new home for the week. He would only speak if asked a direct question, which wasn't often. Each Winchester was in his own little world of thought. The ride took about half an hour since his father rarely kept to the speed limit. They pulled up to a nice hotel instead of a ratty motel.

"Can we afford this?" Dean waved his hand in front of him.

His dad turned around and looked at Sam. "I wanted to make it up to you for making you leave Bobby's. We're going to go hunt tonight," He returned his gaze back to Dean. "So enjoy it while you can."

"Are you sure we should do the hunt tonight? I mean…" Dean glanced back at Sam who kept his eyes on the floor or the Impala.

"This is going to be a simple hunt. You and I are going to do the digging, then you're gonna light the bitch up, and Sammy can keep watch." His father spoke while opening his door.

"Since when is a 'simple salt 'n burn' ever really _simple_?" Dean muttered under his breath. Sam's door was opened and his dad held his hand out to him. Sam took hold of it and was helped out of the car. All three hunters walked into the hotel lobby and watched in awe at the hustle and bustle around them.

"I'm gonna check us in. I made a reservation for two adjoining rooms when I was sitting out in the car earlier." His dad walked up to the front desk while Sam and Dean trailed behind.

"Sam?" Dean was watching him with a very serious expression. Sam raised both his eyebrows in acknowledgement. "I am going to ask you a serious question, so I want a serious answer. Don't bullshit me." Sam waited but did not speak. "Are you going to be able to do this hunt?"

"Ye-" Sam began to speak when Dean held his hand up to silence him.

"Think before you give me your answer. I don't want you getting hurt again. If you say that you don't think you're up to it, I can help you." Sam heard the distress in his words. He knew that his brother must be a bundle of nerves.

Sam felt like he was capable of standing watch. At least his dad didn't want to try to make him dig a grave or something. "I can do it, Dean. Don't worry."

"You're telling your big brother not to worry? You do know that's impossible, right? I'm always worrying about you, Sammy. It's time you started worrying about you too." Dean's words hit him hard. Apparently, it seemed like Dean didn't think Sam was taking care of his own wellbeing and that he was pushing himself too hard. He didn't believe that, he knew he could handle this hunt.

His dad walked over to them holding two key cards. Handing one to Dean, they piled into the elevator and went to their respective rooms.

Before entering their room, his father called them over. "We're leaving at midnight. So be prepared." Dean nodded sharply and led Sam back to their room.

Their bags were already in their room. Sam walked over to the cream and gold bed and gently flopped onto it. He felt uneasy at the fact that he thought not seeing dust billow up from the sheets made this hotel luxurious. There was no smell of smoke or stale beer. No mold creeping up the walls…

"_Hey._ Take this." Dean held out three Aspirin in his hand. Sam grabbed them and popped them into his mouth. His brother kneeled down and pulled out a bottle of water from the mini fridge and handed it to Sam. After swallowing the pills, he glanced at the bedside clock. It flashed 11:35pm in green light. "I'm going to hop in the shower before we leave." Sam nodded as Dean made his way into the bathroom. "Sam!" Dean screeched as soon as he flicked on the lights for the bathroom.

Thinking Dean was in some sort of trouble; Sam jumped up and ran to his brother. "What? _What?_" He said quickly.

"Look at the _size_ of this _bathroom!_" Dean seemed completely astonished. Sam gave him a good whack on this arm and went back into the main part of the room. He could hear the water being turned on as he sat down and flipped on the television. He wasn't able to concentrate on the program with his mind wandering to the upcoming hunt.

Twenty minutes later, Dean came out of the shower with a plume of steam following him. A towel was wrapped around his head and another was around his waist. "That was the most _amazing_ shower I've _ever_ had." Sam rolled his eyes and kept his focus on the TV set while Dean changed. "We should go to Dad's room so we can head out. It's almost twelve."

Sam nodded and felt his pockets. He had his cell phone in one and a pocketknife in the other. "Alright, I'm good. Grab the weapons bag." Dean swung the duffle over his shoulder and walked to the door that connected their room with their father's.

Two swift knocks and their dad swung open the door. "Let's head out."

===========SPN============

The trio of hunters tromped through the fresh blanket of snow that covered the field beside the road. It didn't take long to get there since the hotel was less than a block away. Sam shoved his hands in his pockets and huddled deep into his borrowed jacket. No matter how many times Bobby said it was his, Sam would always think of it as 'Uncle Bobby's coat'. His father was holding a map and pacing out how far into the field they needed to go. After the road was completely out of sight, his dad stopped. "_Here._" He said and the brother's looked down at where he was standing.

Dean handed him one of the shovels and they began to dig. Sam created a rut in the snow from walking circle after circle around the grave, keeping an eye out for anything. The howling of the wind caught his attention just in time. Sam spun around and shot at an apparition of a young woman charging him.

"Sam!" His brother and father called in unison.

"I'm fine, hurry up! She's on to us!" Sam called back, keeping his gun at the ready.

Sam suddenly had the strange sensation of being picked up. He turned and was assaulted by the grim face of the ghost they were after. It reached it's hand into Sam's chest. He could feel his heart begin to race. "Dean!" He could see his brother's body pop out from the ground and race over to him. He swung his iron shovel down on her. As soon as he did, she released Sam and blew into the night.

He could sense his brother was about to say something. "Dean, I'm okay." He panted. "Just help Dad so we can get outta here faster!" Sam all but shoved Dean away from him. Before he could hop back into the grave, the woman showed up again. For some reason she seemed drawn to Sam. She used all her force and pushed Sam. He went flying a good fifteen feet and landed with a thud. He'd hit his head pretty damn hard when he landed. Before the ghost could come back, she lit up in a fiery blaze. She cried out and then disintegrated into a pile of ash.

It wasn't simple like his dad had said… But it was fast. "Sam?" Dean was leaning over him, carefully prodding his head with cold fingertips.

"I… I think I'm fine." Sam spoke slowly. His heart was still racing, which he attributed to an adrenaline rush. His head hurt like a mother, but other than that he felt alright.

"That's good." Sam hadn't noticed his father standing behind them. "Dean and I are gonna finish up here. Why don't you head back to the car? You did good, son." His dad reached down and helped Sam up.

"Thanks." The sudden movement made him slightly dizzy.

"Do you want me to go with you?" Dean whispered so that their dad couldn't hear.

Sam thought about it for a moment. He did feel kind of funny… "No." He decided. "I'll meet y'all at the car." Sam looked down at their tracks in the snow to figure what direction he needed to take.

He knew that it took them about ten minutes to make it to where the body was buried, so he tried to time himself. About halfway there, the adrenaline started to seep out of his body, leaving him weary and disoriented. Somewhere along the way in his confusion, Sam stopped following the tracks and went his own way. Not sure where he was going anymore, he just let his feet carry him. His head was aching with each step and his heart was sprinting. Sam stumbled forward, catching himself on the slick concrete of the sidewalk. He began to crawl in the direction he thought the Impala might be when headlights temporarily blinded him.

The loud screeching of tires against asphalt cut the night air. He heard two doors and he assumed it was his brother and dad coming to get him when an unfamiliar voice tried to get his attention. "Oh, God. Are you alright? _Dave!_ Help me with him. He's bleeding… We need to get him to a hospital." A distinctly feminine voice called out. Sam could feel himself getting cradled in a pair of strong arms, but they did not belong to his brother or father. He tried to fight him off, but he was too weak.

"It's okay. We're trying to help you." A male voice spoke softly. Sam didn't have a chance to reply as he lost consciousness just then.

=============SPN===============

"He's waking up." A woman's voice spoke off to the side. "Young man? Can you hear me?"

Sam peered through tiny slits at the blinding light above him. He could hear the distinct beeping of the heart rate monitor and the stench of bleach. _Damn it… __**Another**__ hospital?_

"There you are. I need to ask you some questions. I know you're tired, so I'll make them quick so you can get some more rest." Sam listened and then nodded tiredly. "What's your name?"

"S-Sam."

"Okay Sam, who can I call to let them know you're here? We found your cell in the pocket of the jacket you were wearing, but didn't know which contact to call. I didn't see 'Mom' or 'Dad' in it…" She waited a moment. Sam had programmed his dad's name in as _John _once he got the phone.

"Mom's dead." Sam slowly answered.

"I'm so sorry… I didn't know. What about your father? What's his name so I can call him?" She held up his phone to show Sam it. He couldn't really focus on it. Everything became blurry again. "Sam? Please tell me you're dad's name so I can call him."

"Bobby S-Singer." And with that, Sam drifted into a restless sleep.

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**So? What did y'all think? I know the hunt was short, but I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Did you like the little twist I added at the end? Please rate!**


	16. Chapter 16

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"_Hello?_" Bobby was still pissed about what had happened with John and the boys and wasn't in the mood to be talking to _anyone_ unless it was Sam or Dean.

"Is this Bobby Singer?" A timid voice questioned.

Bobby felt bad for frightening the poor woman. He was just so damn overwhelmed. "Yes, I'm sorry ma'am. Who's calling?"

There was a slight hesitation on the other end. "Mr. Singer, your son was injured and brought to the hospital a few hours ago. Did you know that he was out?"

His son? _Damn it… Must be Sam or Dean._ If it was, why were they calling him saying he was the kid's dad? Being a hunter, he thought quickly on his feet and came up with a smooth lie. "Yeah, he went out a few hours ago and I haven't heard from him since. How is he? Is he alright?" Bobby wanted to ask what the name of the kid was, but that would've ruined the whole fatherly façade.

"Well, he suffered from a concussion and some bruised ribs. I'm more concerned with his mental state to be honest with you." She disclosed.

"_Mental_ state? What do you mean?" Bobby spoke as he pulled on his boots and jacket.

"I think that it would be best if you came in." The lady spoke softly.

"Which hospital?"

"Parker General."

"I'm on my way." With that, Bobby flipped his phone shut and revved the engine of his old Chevy.

Thoughts were buzzing around in his head like an angry hive of bees. _Which one of the boys is in the hospital? If they're in the hospital, where's John? Why isn't he with them? If he were with them, I wouldn't have been called. Is John injured too? Why did they think I was their dad? _Bobby pulled his truck into the first open parking spot and walked in, straight to the front desk.

"Can I help you?" A small blond woman smiled brightly at him. Bobby couldn't help but blush. He then realized that he had_ no_ idea what name he needed to ask for since the doctor hadn't left her name and he didn't know who he was going to see.

"Um… Yes. I'm looking for last name, Singer?" He tried, literally crossing his fingers in hope that they'd changed the name to Singer when the boy told them he was his father.

"We have three Singers here." _Balls._ "We have an Alexander Singer, a Sam Singer, and a Katherine Singer." Sam.

"Oh thank God. What room is Sam in?" The lady gave him a questioning glare.

"Could I ask what business you have with the patient? I can't just give out room numbers of patients you know…" She trailed off.

Bobby held out a picture of him with Sam and Dean from a few years ago. It was faded, but he always kept it with him. "I'm his Dad." He also held up his license with his real last name.

She still seemed skeptical. It was probably because he didn't ask for Sam by name. She pursed her lips and decided that she believed him enough to let him see Sam. "Room 102. It's down that hall, take a right and it is on the right side." She pointed down a corridor to his left.

"Thanks." Bobby practically sprinted down the halls, eyes continually searching each door until he saw room 102. He sighed heavily and creaked the door open.

Sam was lying motionless on the bed. He kept his face to the ceiling. If he didn't know better, he'd say the boy looked dead. The only thing that kept that thought from blooming was the steady beep from the monitors surrounding Sam. He was too pale, which made the dark bruises more pronounced. Bobby pushed the door open and it fell against the wall with a barely audible _thump_. Sam twisted his head toward the sound, slightly startled when his gaze finally fell on Bobby. He eased himself immediately and a small smile twisted on his lips.

"Sam?" Bobby stepped inside and shut the door behind him. He could see Sam's bottom lip begin to tremble. He looked as if the slightest movement could break the kid. "Sammy?" Bobby took the next few steps to Sam cautiously. His eyes followed Bobby's every movement. As soon as Bobby was in touching distance, Sam reached up with one hand and clutched Bobby's vest. He never quite looked Bobby in the eyes, which scared him. Sam just stared at his hand that was twisted in the fabric of his vest.

Sam mumbled something under his breath. "What was that?" Sam finally looked into Bobby's eyes, holding so much more in their depths than any sixteen year old should have to carry.

"Bobby. He's never gonna change, is he…?" Bobby didn't have an answer, and Sam's puppy dog eyes were getting to him. Instead of an answer, Bobby leaned over and pulled Sam into a bear hug. At first, Sam left his arms limp at his sides. After a few seconds, he returned the hug with as much fervor as Bobby had given.

"Sam. What happened tonight?" Bobby spoke while still holding Sam in his arms. Sam reluctantly let go and fell back against the pillow. Bobby turned and pulled a chair up to sit beside him. Sam's eyes were flitting in every direction trying to find something to focus on. "Look at me, son." He finally rested his eyes on Bobby.

"It was a ghost. Salt 'n burn. Simple." Sam stated in short choppy sentences.

"Who were you going after?" Bobby asked, wanting to try to get Sam talking more.

"Don't know."

"You just went on a hunt without… _Wait._ John said something about the hunt. You still went on the ghost hunt for the girl on the side of the road in the fields, right?" Sam jerked his head up and down. Bobby had gone and researched the hunt himself. Found out that the spirit affected the people that didn't die from the crash.

It was a spirit of a young woman who was lured out to the fields by a prank by some college boys. It is said that she would wander the streets to try to find help. If the person she finds has some sort of inner turmoil, _she_ would help _them_ by having their hearts desires known to them. She had more power than any other ghost they'd hunted. He tried to tell John that, but the stubborn son of a bitch wouldn't give him the time of day.

"Are John and Dean okay?" Sam jerkily nodded again.

"Before you got here, I called Dean. I told him I was here and for him not to bring Dad. I just had this overwhelming need to be in contact with Dean, it was almost painful. I don't know why though…" Sam trailed off in thought.

"The doctor called me and told me that my _son_ was in the hospital…" Bobby started, waiting for Sam to explain.

"I had the same urge then too. The doctor asked me who my dad was, and I didn't even really think about it. I just said your name." Sam flushed lightly.

"Sam… Did the spirit touch you? Like, on your chest or your head?" Bobby started to piece the puzzle together.

Sam watched him confusedly. "Yeah. She reached into my damn chest and started squeezing my heart! Thought I was gonna die for sure."

"_Balls._" Bobby rubbed a hand through his scraggly beard. "She got to you then. Was she interrupted? I mean, obviously her hand isn't up in ya _now_… But was she the one who pulled her hand from your chest?"

"Well, no. Dean came over and took iron to her. She disappeared and then came back and threw me when Dad finally lit her up." Sam stared at Bobby like he'd lost his marbles. "Bobby, what are you thinking?"

"This ghost… It's no ordinary ghost. She is said to bring one's innermost desires or thoughts to light. So whoever she touches finally knows what they want or what they need to do… You know what I mean? And since she never finished whatever she was doing to you, everything was only brought to your subconscious. It's more prominent than before. That's why you had the overwhelming need to be in contact with Dean and why… Why you told the doctor that I was your dad. The spirit brought all of your feelings and thoughts up so that you would notice them and act on them." Bobby finished, his mind was racing.

Neither one of them had heard the door open. Each hunter was lost in their own thoughts. "Sammy?"

"Dean!"

"_Sam!_" Dean took three long strides over and pulled his brother into his chest, holding his head and rubbing his other hand across his back a little too harshly to be comforting. Bobby figured he was just too rattled to notice. Dean pulled Sam's face into his hands and looked into his brother's eyes. "Are you alright? Do you even know how freaked I've been? I spent the last two hours scouring the damn field for you!"

"I tried to get to the car, but I got dizzy and my sense of direction was off. I made it to the sidewalk but fell. Some couple brought me here." Dean let one of his hands drop to hold the side rail of the bed and left the other on Sam's shoulder, keeping contact.

"I heard what you said, Bobby…" Dean glanced over to Bobby, who felt awkward. "About the spirit." Dean looked back to Sam who was biting his lips so hard that he wouldn't be surprised if he drew blood.

=================SPN==================

"Is Dad here?" Sam kept his voice low.

"_Dad_-Dad or _Bobby_-Dad?" Dean slightly smirked though his eyes were sad.

Sam could hear Bobby shift in his seat. "Maybe I should-"

"It's okay, Bobby. I'm not mad or anything. It's how Sam feels and honestly… As hard as it is to say, you've been more of a father to Sam than Dad has."

Sam was stunned. "Did the ghost get to you too?"

"Smart ass."

"_Jerk._"

"_Bitch!_"

"_Boys!_" Sam's dad walked in, his hands shoved deep in his pockets.

Bobby seemed irritated. "What is it with you Winchester's sneaking around in doorways and whatnot?" Sam snickered.

"Let me guess… You heard everything too?" Sam raised one eyebrow.

His father let a sheepish smile pass his lips. "I came with Dean. He told me to wait outside the door until he came and got me but…"

Dean huffed, irritated. "And apparently you can't follow a simple order!"

His dad rolled his eyes. "Sam? I know that I said that I'd try to be a better father. I've been doing a piss poor job so far." Sam remained tight-lipped, letting his father know that he agreed. "It'll take some time. You can't teach an old dog new tricks… " Sam nodded. "I think we should go on a break."

Sam's eyes widened. It probably would have looked comical to anyone passing by, but he was in utter disbelief. "Like, a vacation from hunting?"

"Yeah. I was thinking…" His father turned his gaze onto Bobby. "If you wouldn't mind… Maybe we could stay at your place for a while? We can have a _real _Christmas. With the _whole_ family together."

Bobby smiled warmly. "As pissed as I am at you… Of course I'd let y'all stay with me. We're family."

Dean and Sam exchanged glances at each other. Sam could see his excitement mirrored back at him through Dean's jade green eyes. "But, uh… I think we should talk to the doctor first before we leave." Dean reminded his father. Sam looked warily up into his father's eyes.

"Wouldn't have it any other way." He smiled and came over to ruffle Dean's short hair. "Dang! How much product do you put in your hair? I could grease the Impala's engine with that." He grinned and wiped his hand on the blanket covering Sam.

"You're just jealous you don't have my awesome hair!" Dean retorted, mock punching Sam for laughing. Even Bobby started laughing.

The banter continued for a while longer. From an outsider's point of view, they would have looked like any other normal family. Enjoying a few laughs and catching up. Sam knew that they were by no means _normal_. His family was broken in places and very small. He knew that it would take a lot of work for the Winchester's to be alright. It wouldn't happen overnight, or even in a few years. It would be a constant struggle. Sam felt with the help from Bobby and each other, they just might make it. Only time will tell, but with family… _everyone_ deserves a second chance.

**==============SPN================**

**It's finished! I really hope everyone enjoyed reading this story. I loved writing it. I am also going to start a sequel for my other story 'Never Going to be Okay'. So keep an eye out! I appreciate all of your reviews so thank you all! Please leave one final review to let me know how you liked the ending and the story overall! **


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